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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931728">Going Another Way (Of Sorts)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkem89/pseuds/checkem89'>checkem89</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Downton Abbey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Smut, F/M, poor attempts at fluff, severe timeline bending, undecided fetish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:13:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>42,484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkem89/pseuds/checkem89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1912 Elsie wondered what her life would be like had she gone another way. Soon after, that choice is made for her. How will things play out for her?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charles Carson/Elsie Hughes, Elsie Hughes/Joe Burns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elsie Hughes looked down at the red-faced squalling child in her arms and tried to settle him with another lullaby. The lad was hungry she knew, he hadn't eaten since they'd left in the early morning and it was nearing mid-day now. An irritated mother of four rambunctious children sitting next to her kept glaring in her direction, probably because Elsie was holding a child and wasn't wearing a wedding ring. It was the last thing the distressed new mother wanted to deal with. Deciding to take a chance, Elsie left the crowded and stuffy compartment to search for a mother from whom she could beg a few moments at the breast. <em>If I could only feed him myself, I'd have one problem less,</em> she thought nearing tears.</p><p>She took a moment to compose herself, it wouldn't do to have a cry in public no matter how tough things were. No matter what challenges came her way, she would stand tall and face them with squared shoulders and her head held high. After all, it didn't matter if the irritated mother sitting next to her knew the details of her life. Women with children and no husband were judged to the point where they never stood a chance anyway.</p><p>Four cars down a mother took pity on the child and took the bairn to the mothers room. Elsie took advantage of the few moments of peace to reflect on the events of the last few days and her precarious new circumstances. Becky had been horribly abused at the facility she lived in and had given birth. It had been a mercilessly rough situation to navigate when Becky's caretakers hadn't known a thing till Becky was well into her pregnancy; they had simply assumed she had undergone the change and had started gaining weight given her age. The facility hadn't a clue as to who the father was and Becky had gone silent months ago, save for the occasional rage-filled outburst, so there had been no way to see the man sacked. When they had shown Becky the child after the birth she had lashed out and tried to attack her own child. By the time Elsie had received a letter detailing her sisters welfare, Becky had near ready to give birth. Elsie had been granted some time off from Mr. Carson and the family citing exhaustion from a lack of using her half days. The family had been kind enough to let her go without issue, but Mr. Carson had given her a good scolding in his pantry; from now on she wasn't to avoid her half days. The original plan had been to spend some time with Becky and make plans for the child to be adopted as soon as possible. The actual chain of events ended with Elsie arriving the day before the birth and falling in love with her nephew the moment she laid eyes on him. He was perfect with ten pink little toes, a pair of pouty lips and the sweetest face she had ever seen. No, she couldn't give him up after laying eyes on someone so wonderful as her only nephew. As things stood today, Elsie was a single mother with no husband and a sister who was heavily dependent on her ability to earn.</p><p>The kind mother who had acted as wet nurse returned with her nephew who was sleeping peacefully in his swaddling clothes. Elsie thanked her several times over before making her way back to her stuffy compartment only to find the unkind mother had taken advantage of the extra space to let her youngest nap and refused to wake her. It had been enough to force tears to well at her eyes when the train began to slow and the ticket inspector called out the stop. An exasperated Elsie grabbed her valise off the top shelf and hurried out before the woman could see the tears flowing down her cheeks. Taking in a steadying breath of fresh air, Elsie took the first steps towards the pub where the man she hoped would help her, the only man she trusted at this moment, would be waiting. <em>He may not be perfect, but he is a good man.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, you don’t mind my staying… with the child?”</p><p>“Of course not! I don’t even want to think about the place without you living in it.”</p><p>Elsie felt she could have jumped for joy at that moment.</p><p>“On one condition, you consider changing your last name.”</p><p><em>Oh.</em> There always was a catch to the good things in life.</p><p>“You know what I’m asking, don’t you?”</p><p>“You haven’t exactly asked anything yet.”</p><p>“But you know what it is. Now I’m not going to pressure you in the least bit, it’s a big decision and I want you to take your time, I’d rather wait for the right answer than get the wrong one in a rush. And I don’t want you to feel obligated to say ‘yes’ either, my home will always be open to you and that little boy of yours there.”</p><p>“Joe Burns, you are truly wonderful man.”</p><p>“And don’t you forget it.”</p><p>Elsie knew the life she had given up once before and the one she was going to give up now. Before Elsie left to work at Downton, she had been a farm girl always on the arm of Joe and he had been adamant on marrying her then. But she was young and wanted something different from life on a farm. As much as she loved her life in service and the people she shared it with, she knew it would be impossible to hide or raise a child there and they would be an extra burden on the staff. That’s considering if Mr. Carson had even allowed her to stay on.</p><p>Of course, she always did wonder what life would have been like had she accepted Joe’s proposal and now it seems as if fate had drawn them together again. Joe had loved and lost his wife and just last month she received his letter asking if they could meet. Of course she had written a letter declining knowing it wouldn’t be proper to entertain those ideas, but curiosity had gotten the better of her and now, thank the lord she never posted the letter.</p><p>“So what are we calling the lad?” Joe asked as he walked her to the farm “He’s got to have a name to go by.”</p><p>Of course the child was going to have a name, she just hadn’t the time to think of a proper name with all the craziness going on. Elsie still had so many things to figure out, such as how she was going to provide for herself, Becky and a child. The only reason she had settled on Joe was that he was already a father and he was a pair of hands she could count on when times were rough.</p><p>“To be honest I’m not quite sure yet. For traditional Scottish names I rather like Calum, Glenn and Angus.”</p><p>“It sounds as if you have some non-traditional names floating through that head of yours.”</p><p><em>Could this man read thoughts?</em> One name in particular had been very much on her mind. It wasn’t exactly proper, but did it really matter now that things were going another way.</p><p>“I rather like Charlie, not Charles, but Charlie.”</p><p>“Charlie Hughes, sounds like a good strong name to me.” Joe said as they turned up the lane to the same farmhouse she remembered from so long ago. “Any idea of a middle? I hear Joseph makes a goodun.” It was said with humor, but there was an undercurrent of hope in the suggestion.</p><p>“Very funny Joe.” A middle name wasn’t something she had really thought about. If she was honest with herself, there was one more soul she cared about at Downton even if she hadn’t known him very long. The young footman was just a teen starting his first job away from home and he got into the odd shenanigans during his off time, but he was a hard worker who didn’t try to garner the affections of her maids and she had quickly come to think of him as a surrogate son without even realizing it.</p><p>“There’s a new footman at Downton that I didn’t get to know very well, but I think I’ll miss quite a bit. So, Thomas?”</p><p>“There we have it.” Joe turned the knob and opened the front door “Welcome home, Charlie Thomas Hughes.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The very next morning Elsie walked to the post office to send a telegram asking for her things to be sent over from the big house. When she was back at the farm, she would write letters to his lordship and Mr. Carson and come up with a reason for her resignation. No one there had known of Becky’s existence, and going there with the truth would only start up drama about her resignation and whispers about her sister. Besides, it wouldn’t cost much to have her things sent over; her possessions were few and meager and it reminded her that there was another conversation she would have to have with Joe. Becky still needed care and it would cost more than the farm could make to support the farm hands and her new family -if she could even refer to Joe, Charlie and herself as a family. It was only right that Elsie find a job alongside working on the farm to earn her keep.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely not! You’re staying here with me and Charlie. We need you, you know.” As predicted, Joe was against the idea of her taking on a second job and thus began their first fight.</p><p>“This isn’t up for debate Joe. It’s something I need to do if I don’t want to bankrupt you and the farm. I can handle myself very well and have been doing so since I left, thank you very much.”</p><p>“I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live on a farm. You’ll be exhausted at the end of the day…”</p><p>“I’m already exhausted every day!" she interjected "It won’t make a lick of difference if its due to housekeeping or farming or anything else.” </p><p>“Aye, but now you’re responsible for a child who will keep you up all night. And they don’t get any easier as they grow, take it from someone with experience on the matter. First, they keep you up all night needing to be fed and changed every few hours. When you get used to that they start moving around and getting into things and hurting themselves the moment you’re not looking. Then they have thousands of questions you want to answer but can’t. Then they need new clothing they can wear to school because they’ve outgrown what they’ve worn, and you can’t see to that till you show them how to help out around the farm and the house. Children are a twenty-four-hour job where the rules are constantly changing with no warning or guide.”</p><p>“And how do you propose we pay for all this? I’ll tell you this right now, I have no intention of letting Charlie or Becky suffer in the slightest while these hands of mine can still work.”</p><p>Joe went quiet, blowing air out his nose. “Marry me.” <em>How on earth was marrying him going to solve her financial problems?</em> Elsie opened her mouth to protest when he held up a hand to silence her. “If you love me enough to marry me, we will share a bed. Charlie is too young for his own room now, but when he is old enough, he can share Peter’s room. That leaves an open room for Becky. The farm is more peaceful than where she is now, and she will have us to care for her. The adjustment will be hard on her at first, but she was raised on a farm just like you were.” Joe softened his tone and pulled her into a hug “You’ve been gone too long if you think money can solve all your problems Els, family can solve them too if they all pull together.”</p><p> </p><p>Elsie sat in her room that night lulling Charlie to sleep in the rocking chair Joe and Ivy had once used for Peter. Their argument from that afternoon was playing over and over again in her head. On the train she thought it would be easy to slip back into life on the farm, but perhaps life at Downton for so long had changed her more than she realized. On farms families pulled together, no matter what. Even Becky had learned to feed chickens, set up jam tables and other simple chores when they were young. Elsie closed her eyes for a moment and envisioned what such a future would look like. Joe would be out in the fields with Peter ordering about the farm hands. Charlie would join them when he was old enough, but until then he would stay with Elsie and his real mother, tending to sheep with soft, warm wool and licking dirty spoons after they were finished baking pies and cakes in the kitchen. Then at night Elsie would kiss her sister and Charlie good night and crawl into bed where she would drive out the cold by cuddling up next to her man. Elsie opened her eyes to look at Charlie who was now asleep. She couldn’t fathom a sweeter picture than the one that played out in her head, but one question plagued her mind: Could she marry Joe?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elsie bustled about the kitchen trying to cook breakfast while ignoring the cramping in her stomach. Being 50 she thought she was past that point in her life, but her monthlies were no longer monthly and if she did marry Joe, she didn’t want to worry about caring for another child. Deep down she knew she was using him, and it left her with a melancholy feeling as she looked at Joe who was sat at the table feeding Charlie a bottle of cow’s milk. That had been the reason why she’d chosen the farm to raise her nephew. It was safe with plenty of cows, chickens, sheep and vegetables around and Joe had found Peter's old crib and clothing in the loft. Everything on a farm was available to you if you were willing to work for it. She placed a plate of eggs, rashers, fried tomatoes and mushrooms and toast in front of Joe with an absentminded kiss on top of his head. It was innocent enough, the kind a mother might do to her children, and the man had smiled at the loving gesture when he handed over her bairn. <em>Perhaps this is what love really is? Maybe it's not fervent passion like in the romance novels. Maybe it's working hard together and getting on with life with a good man at your side. </em></p><p>It had been almost two weeks since she wired Downtown and she hadn't heard a peep from anyone. If nothing showed up by the end of the week, she'd have to bite the bullet and head home herself to take care of matters. <em>Home.</em> In her dreams she was still in Yorkshire working day and night to ease the life of an Earl and his family.</p><p>“We still have to sort out the christening.” Joe’s voice snapped her out of her daydream.</p><p>“That we do. Have you found Peter’s christening gown yet?”</p><p>“It’s no good no more. Moths found it and turned it into a doily.”</p><p><em>Blast.</em> “Baptizing Charlie in a beautiful white gown should be my responsibility as his aunt.”</p><p>“He’s a wee lad, we can rustle up the money to buy some cloth if you really want. If not, I’m sure one of the neighbors will find it in their hearts to donate one. Little Charlie can even go in his Sunday best if he has ta.” The comment was a fell blow to her pride. Paying for Becky’s care had left her with little spending money while working at Downton, but she never struggled for the smaller expenses of life. <em>That’s life on a farm though. Love, community and poverty.</em> “But now that you bring the matter up, how do you intend to bring up Charlie? People round here know you and Becky, and they will start to talk if they haven’t already. I want us to be on the same page if I have to clear up your good name someday.”</p><p>They both knew people were already talking. Gossip runs rampant when an unmarried mother moves in with an old beau.</p><p>“Well I don’t want to tarnish Becky’s name, but I don’t want to tarnish mine either; and acknowledging Charlie as mine will lead people to be suspicious of you.” She worried her lip a moment “Suppose you think people might believe she started a relationship of sorts… with a man like her? People here know she is capable of forming strong friendships.”</p><p>“That’s stretching a lie pretty thin Els. She’s got the mind of an innocent child.”</p><p>The kitchen fell silent, both searching for a solution that allowed them to raise Charlie in a respectable family. The bairn in question had finished his bottle and needed to be burped.</p><p>Now finished with his breakfast, Joe burped, wiped his mouth with a napkin and searched for his wellies. Elsie smiled inwardly at the similarities already forming between Joe and Charlie. “We can think about this for a bit, but we won’t have much longer to fabricate a story that sticks.” He said.</p><p>“I know, I know.” Everything was so overwhelming between the farm, Becky, Charlie and her money woes. She hadn’t a quiet moment to plan in weeks and it was beginning to take its toll.</p><p>“Just so you know,” he stopped and looked at her with sincerity written all over his face “I wouldn’t care what they think if you bring me into this. I’m already acting father to him and you his mother. Why not let the chance we never got be our story?”</p><p>Was it Joe’s offer to ruin his name and play father to a child that wasn’t his or just a release from weeks of building pressure? Tears streamed down Elsie’s face and Joe crossed the kitchen to wipe them away before pulling her into a strong embrace. Quiet comfort was what he offered and what she needed then as Charlie squirmed between them. With one hand Joe cupped her cheek and drew her lips into a tender kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Charlie 2 weeks old</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the kitchen Elsie was humming an old song her mother used to sing as she prepared tea for Joe and the farmhands. After considering Joe’s offer after breakfast, she decided there was no reason not to marry the man. Tonight, when it was just the two of them, she would ask him to propose properly and officially accept. From there on she could have her sister back with her and live out the life it seems God and her mother wanted for her.</p><p>The kettle whistled and she was pouring the hot water into the pot of leaves when she heard a knock at the door. She was riding an absolute high as she went to greet her unexpected visitor having finally laid a path for her new future… or so she thought. Standing there on the doorstep was none other than Charles Carson, the only man she ever really cared for. Standing next to him with her trunk between them and a basket in hand was her favorite footman, Thomas.</p><p>“Hello Mrs. Hughes,” Thomas was the first to greet her “Mr. Carson thought it would be best if we hand delivered your belongings so we could beg you to come back.”</p><p>Mr. Carson shot Thomas a stern look and if Elsie hadn’t been absolutely gobsmacked, she would have laughed at her little troublemaker stirring the pot at first sentence. “Good afternoon Mrs. Hughes. Yes we have come to ask you back, but firstly we’d like to wish you the best of luck on your new path.” <em>If only he knew</em> “His lordship hadn’t realized you missed farm life this much and wanted to offer you a tenancy for one of his farms.”</p><p>Finally finding her voice she replied “That’s very kind, but I’m afraid I’ve already put down roots here.” <em>Was her mind playing tricks on her, or did Mr. Carson seem disappointed?</em> “Where on earth are my manners?! Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable.” She stepped aside so Mr. Carson and Thomas could shuffle in and put down her trunk. The basket Thomas had carried was a gift from Mrs. Patmore and was filled with her favorite biscuits, tarts and cakes that only she knew how to make. This would be the final time she’d get to taste them.</p><p>Leading them to the sitting room she prayed Charlie napped through their visit. In her letter she wrote that she missed the simplicity that came with a quiet of farm life and hadn’t been able to tear herself away from it to come back and properly hand in her notice. It was a pathetic excuse, but she hated blatant lying on such a scale.</p><p>“It’s quite a nice little place you have here.” Thomas said trying to break the uneasy atmosphere “I quite envy you having this all to yourself.”</p><p>As if on cue, Joe came in the backdoor and unknowingly smashed her coverup to bits. “Hello there love. Care to introduce me to our visitors?”</p><p>“Certainly, this is Mr. Carson and Mr. Barrow.” “Joe Burns” he took over introducing himself. “Charles.” “Thomas.” Elsie watched Joe’s face as he shook their hands and surely enough, the origin of Charlie’s name dawned on him and his expression darkened.</p><p>“Why don’t you head back out before you dirty the floors and I’ll bring tea out right away.” Elsie was desperate to separate Joe from Charles before he blew a gasket and Charlie knew of her shame.</p><p>“Actually, the boys and I are quite hot; think we’ll have tea in for a change.”</p><p>Tea had been more awkward than she could have imagined. On one end of the table Thomas happily chatted away with Peter and the farmhands Aiden and Colin unaware that on the other end, Joe was sizing up Charles from across the table and interjecting himself into conversations between her and Charles. Things hadn’t gotten much better when Charlie started wailing from his crib. Charles and Thomas’ heads whipped around at the sound and Elsie immediately jumped up and excused herself to soothe the child.</p><p>In her room, Elsie had just changed Charlie into a fresh nappy when Thomas strode in. “They went back outside. Who have we here?”</p><p>“His name is Charlie.” Thomas raised his eyebrows at this “He’s the child of a friend of Joe’s whose wife died in labor. We offered to take him on so he could be looked after properly.” She wasn’t sure he believed her, but it was what she could come up with on the spot. Thomas took Charlie from her and played with the lad getting an instant smile. It seems as if the often cold man not only had a soft spot for kids, he was a natural with them. Elsie smiled softly watching the two boys bond and knew she wanted Thomas forever in Charlies life.</p><p>“You know, he still hasn’t been christened.”</p><p>“Oh?” Thomas hadn’t taken his eyes off Charlie.</p><p>“It will be a while till I can get him a proper gown, but when the day comes, would you like to be Charlies godfather?”</p><p>Thomas’s head shot up completely in awe. “You want me to be his godfather?” he asked incredulously</p><p>“Yes, you are obviously enamored with him and personally, I would love a connection to Downton.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me you’re going to miss life in Yorkshire?”</p><p>“I find it easy to say I’m going to miss it very much Thomas. In fact, you’d be surprised to find I have very few reasons to stay here.” A weight had been lifted off her chest as she confided in Thomas. She was about to confess that the only reason she ran to Joe was for milk and an extra pair of hands when a deep voice cut her off.</p><p>“I’ll assume the child was every bit of your reason to stay? It would have been worth mentioning if it was.” Watching from the doorway was Charles and the atmosphere instantly tensed again.</p><p>Thomas, taking his cue, handed Charlie back to Elsie and mumbled something about Aiden as he slid past Mr. Carson. Charles walked over to her to get a closer look at her boy with his hands behind his back and that stuffy attitude of his plastered across his face.</p><p>“He’s not Joe’s friends, is he.” It was more of a statement that it was a question she could tell. This man had a way of sniffing out the truth when something indecent happened, but for just this once couldn’t he let it lie out in the open without picking it apart? She had already been caught in one lie, so it probably would be best to out the truth- she could trust him not to spread gossip anyway.</p><p>“I’ve never told you, but I have a sister.”</p><p>“I didn’t know you had a sister.”</p><p>“That’s because I didn’t want anyone to know if I’m honest. Becky was born sweet and simpleminded. I’ve scraped to have her cared for, but a nurse has been taking advantage of her and now…”</p><p>“You have the child.” His expression remained stoic “Becky’s care must be expensive; you should have given him up and come back to Downton. He’d have a good life with a mother and a father.”</p><p>Elsie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I just couldn’t just give him away once I laid eyes on him. Between him and Becky, they’re the only family I’ve got left. Besides, <em>if</em> you needed to know, Joe and I <em>will</em> be marrying and bringing Becky home to the farm. So Charlie <em>will</em> have two parents <em>and</em> I will get my sister back!” That last part wasn’t concrete, but who the hell was Charles Carson to tell her to abandon her sister and nephew?</p><p>Elsie stormed outside with Charlie and looked out at the men working hard in the field.</p><p>“I didn’t mean it like that Mrs. Hughes,” He followed her with an embarrassed look on his face “but surely you can see it would be easier on you to…”</p><p>“Easier financially, yes it would be, but on the heart it would be torture. Money can’t solve all your problems, Mr. Carson, but family can!”</p><p>He had no retort for that. Charles simply stood there flabbergasted with his mouth agape and to be honest, she was rather glad that parroting Joe’s words to Charles had shut him up.</p><p>“I’m sorry. Unless there is a way I can make it up to you, perhaps it would be best if Thomas and I were to leave.”</p><p>“It may be best if you do.” She answered stiffly.</p><p>With that, Charles walked out to the field where Thomas stood leaning against the fence. A bright smile shone out as he nattered on about something to Aiden. On the farm, Thomas had acted soft and more casual than he had at Downton and something about his actions were familiar and at the same time strange. She briefly wondered if she might be able to coax him into farm life if she used Charlie and Aiden’s friendship as bait, though Thomas might go running when he learned what Aiden was.</p><p>Suddenly everything clicked. Thomas hadn’t been wooing the maids because he wasn’t that type of man. She just managed to get her wits about her when Charles and Thomas approached to say their goodbyes.</p><p>“It looks as if we will be taking our leave, Mrs. Hughes. I shall mark my calendar for christening as soon as you can give me a date.” Thomas let Charlie grab his finger in a mock handshake and with a terse goodbye to Charles the two men walked away, one of them out of her life forever.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not thoroughly please with how this chapter came out, but I'm also too lazy to rewrite (for now at least). Not quite the argument I wanted Charles and Elsie to have, but good enough for BSing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Charlie 2 weeks old</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The raging storm outside fit Elsie’s mood as she paced the bedroom floor late that night. Supper had not at all gone the way she’d planned. Instead of getting engaged to the man who saved her from a life on the streets, they had argued about Charles. Was he Elsie’s lover? Did he show up to steal her away? Had she already given herself to him? Was Joe so insecure that he could not believe she remained a good girl in her time away from Scotland and hadn’t lain with a man? Before Charlie came along she may have considered it, even hoped for it with the man in question, but now Charles had proved himself to be stuffy and pompous and everything the rest of the staff whispered behind his back. Frustrating thoughts of him filled her head that night instead of a night filled with peaceful wedding dreams and Elsie needed to do something about it if she wanted to exorcise the demon that was Charles Carson from her body.</p><p>Checking on a sleeping Charlie one final time, Elsie tiptoed down the hall to Joe’s room. The door opened and closed with a low creaking sound that failed to disturb the sleeping occupant. <em>I must be positively mad to be doing this. A misread sign can have Charlie and I out on the stoop before daylight.</em> But she knew what Joe wanted, what all men wanted, and it was less about marriage than it was what married people do at night – and what better way to convince him, and her, that Charles was nothing to her. Adrenaline rushed through her body as the cool night air prickled at her skin when she dropped her dressing gown. There she stood, uninvited in a man’s bedroom, the bed he shared with Ivy for so many years, ready to give in to life’s most primal urge she’d suppressed for years. Creeping closer, she was disappointed to find there was no soft, boyish look to his face – another area where her romance novels had failed her. Joe sleeping was simply Joe sleeping. Pulling back the covers, she slid into bed unnoticed till she shuffled closer, wrapped her arm around his waist and spooned against his form.</p><p>“Elsie! What on earth are yeh –” Elsie pressed a finger to his lips to silence him before they woke Charlie, or worse yet, Peter.</p><p>“I know you worry about the relationship between Charles and I. If you had asked about me <em>wanting him</em> months ago, you’d be correct in your suspicions. But we never made it past friends,” she kissed him once “and I’ve never wanted him the way I want you.”</p><p>Love or untruth? Elsie wasn’t sure what she was feeling for Joe or Charles lately, but the two were completely separate in her heart.</p><p>Joe simply turned and looked at her for a moment through sleepy eyes. The seconds ticked away painfully slow, and though he didn’t throw her out of his bed or his house, the longer he went without speaking, the more foolish she felt for committing this unwelcome act. <em>Back out now and find a new place to live tomorrow. He’ll never want me now that I’ve exposed myself as the tramp he believed.</em> Casting her eyes away from him she began her retreat with her tail between her legs when she felt his hand steadying her hip. Pulling her closer, he pressed a lazy kiss to her lips. It was no different from his previous kisses, it was quite mediocre if she was honest, but the idea alone of kissing Joe in bed was incredibly erotic.</p><p>Excitement pooled at her center as Joe pulled at her nightdress and deft fingers found their way to her slick folds. He slid along her entrance gathering her essence and began rubbing small circles against the lovely little nub she herself rarely touched out of shame. An electric shock jolted through her body and her hands needily grasped at his beard. Rocking her hips, she ground against his fingers begging him for more, more what she wasn’t sure until a solitary finger entered her forbidden cavern. Sparks flew before her eyes as he stroked the sensitive flesh inside her, and she couldn’t help but wonder why she had waited so long to experience this bliss, couldn’t help but wonder what this would be like with thicker, pristine fingers stroking her center and hands caressing smooth cheeks that smelled of aftershave. Her thoughts became jumbled when a second finger joined the first and created a fullness within her that both satisfied her and had her craving more. A throaty noise escaped her as her body shook and shuddered in euphoria.</p><p>Coming down from her high, Joe rearranged them so her back was held close to his front, his arm wrapped protectively around her middle and his nose buried in the softness of her hair. They rested in silence for a moment, listening to nothing more than the sounds of night.</p><p>Joe was the one to break the silence. “This mean you’ll finally marry me?” his voice trailing off listlessly.</p><p><em>I have to now, don’t I? </em>“Aye, you’ll finally get me down the aisle.” she replied, her voice quavering beyond her control.</p><p>“Arite. We’ll talk more t’morroah. Go ta sleep now Els, go ta sleep.” He smiled through closed eyes and immediately fell into a deep slumber.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was barely dawn when Charlie’s crying woke Elsie. Confused, she looked to the left side of the bed where Charlie’s cot usually stood. <em>Oh right, </em>she looked at Joe who was still snoring lightly next to her <em>last night</em> <em>happened. I’m no better than a whore now.</em> Sliding out of bed as quickly as she could without waking Joe, she grabbed her discarded dressing gown and padded back to her room to soothe Charlie before the wee lad woke the whole farm.</p><p>In the kitchen with a perturbed look on his face sat Peter, she knew the boy rose and ate early by himself, but at dawn? <em>What if he heard last night?</em> She knew she wasn’t exactly Peter’s favorite, didn’t expect it being the woman her father pined for before his mother, probably suspected his father carried a torch for her while he was still married. Her heart sank a bit thinking about last night and the announcement to come, their engagement would likely cause a riff between father and son. Perhaps she best work on becoming the boys friend, it wouldn’t do to try and assert herself as mother to a man just out of his shorts.</p><p>Setting Charlie’s milk to warm on the stove, she eyed the porridge Peter had prepared himself. <em>No better way to work to the heart than through the stomach.</em> “I can fry up some rashers for you if you’d like, I think we have a few bangers as well.”</p><p>“No thank you Mrs. Hughes,” his voice was brusque “I’ll be heading out now.” And just like that Peter pushed the last bit of his porridge away and left Elsie alone in the kitchen with a little more doubt on her mind.</p><p>Trying to get more sleep would be pointless with all this buzzing about in her head and outside the sun had turned the sky into a stunning blend of yellows, oranges and blues. There was never time and watch the sun rise at Downton, and it had been ages since she took time to relax and enjoy the simple beauties nature offered. Case settled then, she decided. Careful not to make a noise, Elsie dragged the rocking chair from her room to the front of the house where she would rock her nephew in the morning air and clear her mind from her worries. That was the plan, except… laying on the doorstep, covered in morning dew, was a parcel wrapped in brown paper. A gift from Thomas no doubt, he had been absolutely smitten with Charlie after all.</p><p>With Charlie carefully resting in one arm and the package sitting securely on her lap, she tugged at the string. Inside lay a fuzzy teddy bear and a long, white christening gown with lace and embroidery and matching bonnet, the very kind she dreamed of splurging on for her only nephew, her only chance at being a mother. A tear escaped her misty eyes, something of this quality must have cost Thomas a pretty penny, much more than a young footman could afford.</p><p>Running her fingers over the fine fabric, she noticed a slip of paper tucked into the gown. The note read <strong>I don’t like it when were not on the same side. -C. Carson</strong></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*Back at Downton*</strong>
</p><p>“Good morning Carson, how is Mrs. Hughes getting on? Did she accept my tenancy?” Robert asked, accepting a plate from the butler at the buffet.</p><p>“Good morning m’lord. Mrs. Hughes is getting on quite well and I’m afraid she did not accept the tenancy; she prefers life in the highlands it seems.”</p><p>“I understand completely. I don’t believe living in Buckingham Palace itself for years could ever replace Downton as my home.”</p><p>Charles drew in a hesitant breath; ought he tell his lordship everything that transpired? It had been something he wrestled with the whole train ride home, but if he wanted Lord Grantham’s help he would need to explain the whole truth.</p><p>“What is it Carson?” His lordship stopped and locked eyes with Charles midway through plating himself some scrambled eggs.</p><p>Before he could get a word out, Lady Sybil bounded in with her usual bright face and accepted her plate with a peck on the cheek.</p><p>“It’s nothing to trouble you with now, m’lord… Although perhaps I might be able to discuss something with you and Mr. Murray later?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Charlie 5 weeks old</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>*Three weeks later*</strong>
</p><p>The church bell rang as Elsie, Joe, Thomas and Anna chatted in the courtyard with the few neighbors who bothered to show up for Charlie’s christening. Pretending to examine the relief sculptures above the church’s archway stood an awkward and lonely Charles Carson.</p><p>“I should have written to you earlier but thank you for Charlie’s gown, it’s lovely.”</p><p>Charles held up a hand “Think nothing of it. I behaved rather poorly when we last spoke, and I feel it’s a small way to beg your forgiveness.”</p><p>“Rest assured you are forgiven Mr. Carson.” She flashed him a loving smile that stayed even when she noticed Joe flagging down her attention “It looks as if everyone is ready to move this little party back to the farm; let’s go.”</p><p>“Are you certain you wish me to come? Only I didn’t feel as if Mr. Burns was comfortable with my being there last month.”</p><p>“Of course I want you to come! Thomas and Anna may be Charlies godparents, but for as long as we worked together you and I are practically family.” Now it was Charles turn to return her smile “And you could start calling him Joe if you don’t want him to think you stuffy.”</p><p>------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Back at the farm luncheon had been served and Elsie topped up cups with ale and passed around helpings of chestnut cake, happily noting that Thomas fell right back in with Aiden, Colin, and Peter , who seemed to be taking a shine to Anna. Like a true solider, Charlie made his way around their little party without making a fuss even though he was overdue for his nap. Joe on the other hand was telling stories to the Abernathy’s, Dempster’s and old Mrs. Maxton in a brogue so thick even she had trouble understanding the words leaving his mouth. Once again Charles was stuck in the middle of the table, unsure of what to do, with no one more than his cup to talk to.</p><p>Satisfied that everyone had something in front of them, Elsie placed the jug of ale on the table to find an open spot on the bench where she could chat with her solitary friend. As she rounded the table, an arm wrapped around her middle and pulled her in close.</p><p>“Alright, shut it ya reprobates!” Joe said standing up. He’d clearly had too much to drink and Elsie wanted nothing more than to escape before he embarrassed them both “As you all know by now Elsie’s been avoiding me hand for years now, but it looks as if I finally caught me lass.” Everyone eyed each other with the same question on their mind “Elsie and I are gettin married!”</p><p>The table erupted in cheers and Elsie was immediately swarmed by friends offering their congratulations; Joe’s bride had finally come home. Even Peter gave her a peck on the cheek and called her mother, albeit with a rather grim look on his face. It wasn’t till everyone settled back down that she realized one guest hadn’t been part of the merry bunch, and it was the one whose blessing she wanted the most.</p><p>Slipping out the back door she looked around for a sign as to where the man had gotten to. <em>Ah good, the barn door is open.</em> What had started out as merely a drizzle became a solid rain in the short time it took her to cross the field. Peeking inside, the scene she witnessed broke down any remaining walls she tried to build between him and her. The stern butler who was born to steer a ship of brick and stone through seas of propriety… was sat atop a hay bale tenderly petting one of the barn cats curled up in his lap with another stretched out against his thigh. Looking up, the ale has put a healthy glow about his face which he has paired with a sad smile only meant for her.</p><p>“It looks as if Downton has lost you for good.”</p><p>She sat next to him on the bale and scratched under the chin of the second cat. <em>Downton. It was always the house with him. Why couldn’t he just come out and say he would miss her? She might go home if he would only ask her properly.</em> But she should not think of Downton as home now.</p><p>“Is it such a surprise? You lost me the day Charlie came into this world, I told you so when we last saw each other. Besides, the big house is no home for a wee bairn.” She’s reasoned reluctantly and he looks almost insulted that she doesn’t think of the abbey as a natural nursery.</p><p>She scoots a little closer to his warmth as the rain starts coming down in buckets and asks how things are at Downton. Anna, O’Brien and Mrs. Patmore have been splitting her duties as he looks for a suitable replacement. “Looks like Mrs. Patmore finally got the storeroom key.” She jests.</p><p>For a moment it is like they were back in his pantry or her sitting room and she feels a familiar warmth pooling low in her belly as he goes on about the family and the staff. For just a moment she closes her eyes and she is home.</p><p>Their moment is ruined when a cat spooks them both by jumping down from the loft to her lap and sending them back into the giant pile of hay. Laughter rings out as they roll about in the straw, unable to right themselves in the seemingly baseless heap. Charles finally manages to get a solid mass under his hand only to have his elbow give way and he is pinning Elsie beneath his weight. Their laughter ceases as they lay there, faces mere inches away from the other, in an atmosphere that is thick with unspoken love. Her heart is hammering against her breast as he lowers his lips to hers and captures them in a soft embrace. When he pulls away, she is breathless and her heart has returned to normal. Everything about him feels so right, being beneath him feels so right. Reaching up, she cups his smooth cheek and gently pulls him down for another and revels in his unique scent of fine aftershaves mixed with the silver polish he uses daily. When they pull away again to look at each other, she can tell from the look in his eye that whatever is there between them is over and this is the goodbye to what never existed in the first place.</p><p>With Charles just behind her, she is the first to struggle up into a sitting position only to come face to face with Joe. He is standing there, drenched, with red eyes and his heart in his hands.</p><p>“I can explain.” She says, but she may not be able to dig herself out of this hole.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know it's really short, but things are hectic (obviously) and it's what I could get out with the short amount of time I get on the computer. Hopefully things will calm down and I can get back to updating on the regular.</p><p>Charlie 5 weeks old</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I always knew I loved you more than you loved me, but I never thought you’d do this to me.” Joe’s voice quietly breaks as he desperately holds back his tears.</p><p>Elsie takes one final look at Charles. It may be the last time she ever sees his face which is now a mixture of panic and regret. “Mr. Carson, I think it may be best if you go now.” He nods his agreement and makes a swift exit with straw clinging to his backside.</p><p>“Well go on then, explain.” Joe has put the ball in her court. He knows firing back is more her style of argument and she has not had time to formulate a stance.</p><p>“We kissed yes, but it was our first and only – more of a goodbye if you will.” A quick glance and he doesn’t seem to be buying it even if it is the truth.</p><p>“I don’t know what you want me to say Joe!” It all comes pouring out of her now “I thought I loved him and I thought I had one last chance to entertain a distant dream before I became your wife. But if you need to know the truth, the <em>real</em> truth, there was nothing behind that kiss once it happened. No sparks, no declarations of love – <strong>nothing</strong>. Anyway, with Peter running about you can hardly say you’re pure.”</p><p>“Ivy was <em>my wife</em>, you know that’s different.”</p><p>“Aye, she was your wife, but think about what you said at the table. ‘I’ve been avoiding your hand for years’ ‘you finally got your lass’ You’ve been coveting me since the day I left and Peter heard every bit of that.”</p><p>“<strong>But I never sought you out did I?!</strong>” There is a fire in his eyes now “He’s been planning how to get you back with that toff up at the big house ever since he came here the first time!”</p><p>“And why would you think that?! I’ve known Charles Carson for twenty-five years and he is <em>not</em> a plotter.”</p><p>“I know it because Thomas told Peter so! He wants you, Elsie, even after I announced our engagement, he still wants you. And then he goes and does… that. There’s no honor in him.”</p><p>It stings. The Charles she knows is nothing but honor and honesty and propriety, yet kissing a woman betrothed to another is none of that.</p><p>“I want you to break this off with him Elsie, for good – if you still love me. I want to give you and Charlie a home and a family, and all that is under attack if you keep a friendship with him.”</p><p>She swallows hard around the lump in her throat. In all this emotion with Charles and Joe, she almost forgot about her Charlie. Everything she does now is for him, and if it means putting aside Charles for the rest of her days so Charlie can have a loving home, then she will have to draw the line in the sand between him and her.</p><p>“Okay Joe, I promise you Charles and I are through. I’ll find a way to tell him so he knows exactly where he stands.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>At this point I’m running with the fact that sex ed was an at-home thing. Therefore, these people have zero idea what happens inside their body.</p><p>Charlie 4 months old</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>*Three months later*</strong>
</p><p>A lump.</p><p>The fatigue, hot flashes, tender breasts, heavy bleeding <em>down there</em>. She knew she should have gone to the doctor months ago when she bled for weeks straight. It slowly ate at her sanity then, almost got up the courage to go to the doctor when it stopped, but Charlie was weeks old then and she had to secure a future for him – even if it couldn’t include her.</p><p>Elsie wiped the tears from her cheeks and finished dressing herself; she had a job to do and tears would be no help here. She checked herself one last time in the mirror before officially starting her day. Soon she would be a Mrs again, but for the first time ever her last name would change. Tiptoeing into the kitchen so as not to wake Joe or Charlie, she cleaned up after Peter and set about cooking breakfast for her and Joe. While chopping the bacon, potatoes, tomatoes and onion, her mind drifted back to her impending wedding day. Most brides were giddy by this time and overwhelmed by a mountain of last-minute planning for the big day, but eagerness hadn’t taken over her body. If she were completely honest with herself, she’d rather just tack the Mrs back on and continue living as is. She sighed when she heard Charlie crying from the bedroom “Everything for you, wee one” She told him, nuzzling his pillowy soft cheeks as she walked them back to the kitchen. The veg and bacon went into a skillet and more milk went into a pot for Charlie.</p><p>“Good morning lass” Joe walked in and took Charlie off her hip as usual.</p><p>“Good morning Joe. Breakfast still has a few minutes to go” <em>Ah, yes, I knew we had some cheese from last night.</em></p><p>“You know, I’ve been thinking” he said teasing Charlie with his stuffed teddy “when we go to get your name changed, we might as well change Charlie’s too.”</p><p>“Change his name? Charlie is a Hughes, not a Burns.”</p><p>“We don’t know what he is.” he pointed out “It’ll do the lad good to share a name with his family – besides, I never really cared for the name Charlie.”</p><p>*SPLAT*</p><p>Half a dozen eggs hit the floor and Elsie silently cursed as she bent to clean the mess. She knows where this conversation is heading.</p><p>“We are <em>not</em> changing Charlie’s name. He’s already been christened under his name which everyone knows by now, including him.” She nods to Charlie hoping he babbles some sort of agreement, he does not.</p><p>“He’s still a bairn, wee ones don’t know the difference at this point. Besides” his eyes narrow a bit “it’s <em>his</em> name.”</p><p>Elsie whisks up six more eggs and dumps them in the skillet. They’d been arguing about Charles on and off since the christening. She still hasn’t written telling him she never wants to hear from him again like Joe wanted, insisted she needs something firmer than a letter.</p><p>“We marry in a few weeks, Elsie. I don’t want him showing up trying to steal you away again. You promised you’d end things and I want it to happen so <em>we</em> can be a <em>real</em> family.” He gestures between them to further his point.</p><p>“I know what I promised.” the stern housekeeper voice is unboxed, dusted off and in fine use “I even have a plan I know will drive him away for good, I just need to see him in person for it to work.”</p><p>“Then you go tomorrow.”</p><p>“Fine.” She shoves his breakfast plate across the table so it almost ends up in his lap.</p><p>“Fine.” He hands over Charlie “Now see that the lad gets his breakfast, he’s counting on you.”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The post arrived this morning with a very familiar name <strong>George Murray &amp; associates</strong>. <em>What on earth could this be? Surely his lordship wasn’t intending to sue for her sudden departure.</em></p><p>Not waiting another moment, Elsie ripped open the letter there on the doorstep and read it walking back to the kitchen.</p><p>
  <em>10 April 1912</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Miss Elsie Hughes,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This letter is to inform you that we at George Murray &amp; associates are suing Lytham St Annes Mental Hospital on your behalf for the mistreatment of Miss Becky Hughes per Robert Crawley, 7<sup>th</sup> Earl of Grantham and Mr Charles Carson.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As of March 30<sup>th</sup>, 1912, Becky has been safely removed from the institutions care and has taken up residence at Downton Abbey. The transgressions we are suing for include:</em>
</p>
<ol>
<li><em>Reimbursement of months during which abuse occurred</em></li>
<li><em>Costs of child rearing to support offspring born of abuse</em></li>
</ol><p>
  <em>We will contact you with more updates as we probe further into the investigation and continue building a case. Please contact us by mail, phone or in person if you have any evidence to support your claim or for more details or questions.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sincerely,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>George Murray</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Absolutely gobsmacked. Taking a seat at the table, Elsie tried to rein in her emotions. She was still mad with Joe over this morning’s argument and was torn apart over the life she couldn’t lead with Charles. Now there was some form of relief settling in over the imminent retribution mixed with the stress that came with endless litigation. Topping off this emotional cacophony, she was both comforted and irritated over Becky’s transfer to Downton. Becky was under the care of a loving bunch, of that she had no doubt, but Becky was a handful that needed care from trained doctors and nurses on even her best days. Upsetting her routine and changing her surroundings was a sure way to cause a complete meltdown. And then Becky had been at Downton for two weeks and neither Charles nor his lordship bothered to write! Heaven forbid they think she ought to know where her sister was and whether she was safe or not. Oh, she’d have a few choice words for Charles Carson the moment he was in earshot.</p><p>At the first sound of Joe’s whistling, she stuffed the letter back in its envelope and hastily crammed it beneath her corset. Joe would surely blow the roof off if he found out that Charles had helped take Becky away from that horrid place and held her captive.</p><p>Tomorrow could not come soon enough.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*wipes brow* Okay, I think I got everything in that I wanted to, had to make a lot of revisions to get all the important stuff in. Maybe one day I'll not be lazy and actually plan this out ahead of time instead of winging it. Maybe, but probably not.</p><p>Once again, let's assume that Charles and Elsie are as oblivious as your average tween about bodies and sex. Also, these two are too morally upright to even talk about that with anyone over the last 50+ years.</p><p>Charlie 4 months old</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Walking through the village, it was Elsie who was spotted first by her sister.</p><p>“Elsie! Elsie! Over here!” Becky cried waving her hand energetically. On her left, Charles held on to Becky, patted her hand to calm her and casually waved at Elsie as if nothing were amiss. As she approached the church, Charles released Becky who proceeded to jump around Elsie with the enthusiasm of a child when their father returns home from work.</p><p>While Becky chattered on about the house, Elsie took a better look at the surroundings she found Becky in. Charles, who for whatever reason had his hand in a splint, casually continued his conversation with Reverend Travis, the postman and his gossipy wife. She groaned, come Tuesday morning the entire village would know how Becky was born and she didn’t hold hope that people today reacted kindlier towards Becky’s sort than they did 25 years ago.</p><p>“Right, well we must be getting back to the house now.” Charles so loved to refer to Downton as the house when talking with the villagers. He’d strut about like a peacock all day showing off how casual his presence was in a regal setting if duty didn’t call him back to decant the wine.</p><p>Saying their own goodbyes, Becky abandoned her sister for the arm of Mr. Carson as they set about the road.</p><p>“Well, well. It looks as if you’ve got yourself a boyfriend Becky.” Elsie teased them both.</p><p>“No, he’s not my boyfriend Elsie.” Becky looks bashfully at the ground still clinging to Charles</p><p>“I should think not.” He said with a hint of irritation in his voice, but quickly changing his tone at Becky’s hurt look “Becky deserves a much younger man, one who can sweep her off her feet and take her away in a carriage like Cinderella.” Becky giggled at the notion; disaster averted.</p><p>As they walk the dusty road, Becky tells Elsie about her job helping Mr. Allen with the pruning and the weeding, setting tables for the servants’ meals and clearing up afterwards “…for £8 a week!” she proudly exclaims. Elsie shoots Charles a raised eyebrow, these are simple tasks done for a pittance, not a job and he returns her look with one that says he will explain later.</p><p>All of a sudden Becky gasps and tugs at Charles’ arm “Mr. Carson, Elsie has no one to hold on to! What if she gets <strong>lost</strong>?”</p><p>Charles raises his eyebrows and gasps too, playing along. “You’re absolutely right Becky.” He squints searching the trail of servants ahead of them “It looks as if Mr. Allen is walking by himself, why don’t you run ahead and take his arm and I’ll look after your sister.” She agrees and sprints off to Mr. Allen who immediately offers her his arm.</p><p>Ready to pick this bone with him, Elsie looks at Charles who is waiting for her to take his arm.</p><p>“I don’t think we have to worry about me getting lost Mr. Carson.”</p><p>“Perhaps, but I don’t want to be accused of lying to Becky.” he is still holding his arm out for her.</p><p>Elsie softens a bit and obliges, wonders what it is about this man that changes her so.</p><p>“She gave us a fright last week; didn’t know she would walk away the moment something caught her eye.” She suspects he knows why she has come and is trying to distract her.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me Becky was at Downton.”</p><p>“You have every right to be cross with me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of here living there with that blighter on the loose. I’m rather afraid I got caught up with all the Easter preparations and watching over Becky. It took her some time to readjust to life here, as expected mind you, but she’s happy and adjusting well. And she does fill a role,” he adds “her ladyship wants to expand the garden, but Mr. Allen isn’t able to take on the project with his workforce and hasn’t the money to hire another hand. Becky learned to take care of the smaller things freeing up the others to tackle the bigger jobs. I know she doesn’t earn much, but it’s enough to buy herself sweets and a new dress and neither of you have to worry about her meals or where she lays her head at night.”</p><p>She tries to stop a smile from forming on her face for the man who has thought this through on all sides. “You still could have found the time to write.”</p><p>“I could have, though it’s a rather long story and I doubt you’d be happy with something as simple as ‘Becky is safe at Downton’” he looks at his splinted hand and flexes the fingers.</p><p>“Does your tale have anything to do with that?” she motions to his purpled knuckles.</p><p>“It does actually.” He takes a deep breath before he continues “After you told me about Becky’s… situation… and how it was to remain her home till room could be made at the farm, I took it upon myself to find her and bring her to safety.”</p><p>Elsie thinks back to that day when they argued over Charlie, doesn’t remember telling him the name of the hospital, hasn’t even told Joe she thinks. “But how ever did you find her? Only I knew where she lived.”</p><p>“I may have gone to his lordship and enlisted the help of Mr. Murray. I spent two months scouring the north on my half days while the solicitors focused on London.” He hesitates before continuing “When I found Becky a nurse had his hands beneath her skirts, so I broke his nose and then some, picked up your sister and walked out the door saying I’d be calling the police at once.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose I should figure out a proper thank you then for saving my sister and taking care of her.”</p><p>“Think nothing of it Mrs. Hughes.”</p><p>They take the final turn in the road; dirt turns to gravel and the abbey is in full view.</p><p>
  <em>Welcome back home, Elsie</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The smell of Mrs. Patmore’s pork and cider stew is as welcoming as a hug when as they finally approach the back entrance. It has been four months since she last stood in the servants’ hall, and not much has changed as she expected. William is still pining after Daisy, whose only respite comes from the sharp command of the cook. Anna and Bates talk quietly between themselves while O’Brien continues to spread nasty gossip about those in the house. The only differences she can detect is the addition of Becky, who is laying the table with only a little verbal guidance from Anna and Bates, and Thomas, who has found a close friend in O’Brien.</p><p>Sunday lunch is rowdier than ever with the staff pestering her about Charlie, the ladies awwing when she tells them how he grabs everything in sight and babbles from morning till night. The men smile and congratulate her when she mentions he is already strong enough to sit without support and is already showing signs of ambulation; “something a 6-month-old should be doing, not a 4-month-old” she proudly boasts. Eventually the staff digresses into their own smaller conversations, much of it still revolving around her and children. The boisterous atmosphere only falls to a hush when Thomas asks from across the table if she knew Becky had spent her nights in Mr. Carson’s room. Charles admonishes Thomas about spreading misconstrued gossip where Becky is concerned, promises a proper scolding later.</p><p>When Charles dismisses the group to begin the upstairs luncheon, she is left to help Becky clear up.</p><p>Things are tense between the two sisters for the first time Elsie can remember. All through the meal she was aware of how silent Becky was about Charlie.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me you had a baby?”</p><p><em>The poor thing doesn’t remember.</em> It was a punch to the stomach in a way. Aunt Elsie had fallen in love with the wee one the moment he was born, his squashed and wailing face forever etched upon her heart, and his own mother couldn’t remember who he was four months after his birth. She silently cursed her sister’s affliction for the first time in years as she tried to come up with an appropriate response.</p><p>“It must have been that blasted postman losing your letter again.” The heads of both girls whipped up to Mr. Carson who had rushed back downstairs. “You should have let me take it to post in Ripon so your sister would receive your letters.”</p><p>“There’s a bit of tarnish on the underside of these candlesticks.” Denoting the pair in his hand “Becky, finish clearing the table please. Miss. Hughes, would you be kind enough to help me choose another set from my pantry?”</p><p>The sisters separate and Elsie follows Charles down the hall, knows he needs no help finding silver and is providing her a moment to think.</p><p>“Before you ask, Becky was scared her first few nights and wanted to sleep in my bed. I of course calmed her and sent her back to bed.”</p><p>“I’d never believe anything different. Becky doesn’t take well to change.”</p><p>“Your sister doesn’t remember much about the circumstances leading to the child, I don’t think her abuser… frequented her enough to cause any lasting damage.”</p><p>“You know what I mean.” He replies to her confused look.</p><p>“Now what are your plans for Becky?” He asks, inspecting a candelabrum to see if it’s up to snuff.</p><p>“I wanted to bring her back home, but I’m not sure if I want to move her again now that she’s settled here.”</p><p>“You could always come back here. We will make it work with you and the lad.” There is a string of hope running through his voice.</p><p>Elsie shakes her head “You’re never going to stop, are you Mr. Carson?”</p><p>“No, I’m not.”</p><p>They stare at each other for the briefest of moments. It is not a declaration by any means, but it’s as close as he’s gotten to speaking his feelings.</p><p>The candelabrum is now a physical barrier between the two. “I best get this upstairs before the family settles in.” and he dashes off.</p><p>Elsie picks up the candleholders and silently chuckles to herself, <em>tarnish on the underside of candlesticks.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>While the family dines, Becky shows Elsie around the redesigned gardens and shows off her weeding skills. Things are right between the two again and it becomes clear that Elsie shouldn’t broach the subject of uprooting Becky once again to live at the farm with her, Charlie, Joe and Peter.</p><p>They are back inside looking to filch some shortbread and tea from the kitchens when Elsie excuses herself to the loo. Instead, she goes through Charles’ pantry looking for a favor, anything she can remember him by. It is somewhat depressing to realize how utilitarian his pantry really is. Phone, silver, a handsome pen, wine ledgers, not a single knick-knack that could easily be misplaced or lost. Even his stuffed fish, so proudly hung on the wall, is too prominent to go unaccounted for by Charles (and Joe for that matter). There must be something that is uniquely him, but nothing he would sorely miss. Something he would willingly give her if she had the courage to ask without being misinterpreted.</p><p>She hangs her head in defeat, might as well break his heart and head home now that Becky is accounted for.</p><p>The staff are slowly filtering in from upstairs now and she says goodbye to each of them in turn this time, makes Anna and Thomas promise to come to her wedding in a few weeks, hugs Becky tight and tells her to work hard.</p><p>She grabs her coat and hat and takes one final look at the hall brimming with the people she was once in charge of.</p><p>“Wait one moment Miss. Hughes and I’ll join you.” Charles disappears into his pantry and returns wearing his hat and pulling on his coat. “The family will be dining at the dower house this evening, so I’ll be taking my half day starting now.”</p><p>They walk the longer road to the village that takes them past a line of vacant cottages where the gardens have overgrown with poppies. One in particular has always been her favorite, the one at the very end made from grey brick. It has a stone wall with a gate out front and a pear tree and an apple tree off to the side. Pushing open the creaky gate she wonders what life was like for its former occupants, imagines making it a home again with Charlie making discoveries about the small patch of earth while she washes, mends and cook’s supper. A lump forms in her throat when she thinks about the one on her breast, how the wretched thing may prevent her from seeing Charlie grow and achieve even life’s smallest milestones. <em>Just a few more weeks and Charlie will be safe, no matter what happens to me.</em></p><p>She senses him standing close behind her, so close one could consider it inappropriate. Taking a deep breath, she spins around, throws her arms around his neck and kisses him violently, because if there is one thing she will do for herself, one thing when she has let devotion to family dictate her life, one thing before this thing growing inside her claims her life, the one thing she will have for herself, heavens be damned, is Charles Carson.</p><p>He is stunned for sure, simply stands there and lets her kiss him before melting into her. His hands run delicately along her waist sending shivers up her spine.</p><p>Breaking away she looks him in the eye and asks, “Will you take me Charles?” for though she very much wants him, she wants him knowing he is giving freely.</p><p>“Whenever you want me.”</p><p>Lifting her, he draws her in for another heated kiss and kneels to lay her down in the sea red poppies.</p><p>The skin of his cheeks are burning beneath her touch as he hurriedly undoes his trousers and readies himself. Soon her skirts are being hiked up and it is amusing to watch him get flustered and frustrated as he works his way past the tangled layers of fabric. Finally, he is <em>there,</em> and he pushes in between the parting of her drawers without hesitation and shudders. Elsie bites down hard on her lip as she feels his seed shoot up into her, swallows the scream and holds him close so he cannot see the tears that form.</p><p>Things are awkward between them now as he starts to soften inside her. They look anywhere but at each other with Charles muttering apologies to the ground and the sky. Elsie, being a woman, has heard other women talk about this happening with their men. Has heard tales of men great and small who took care of their own needs with no regard for their other half. It must be the way of the world, she supposes.</p><p>Eventually they stand and he puts himself away while she straightens her skirts. The rest of their journey to the village is walked in silence, both of them taking in what happened. It had hurt and now she feels his seed sliding down her thigh, her body rejecting him, proof that they were never meant to be. Thinking back to her promise to Joe, she decided it might be best if she were to cut things off with Charles for good. Seeing him again would surely ruin her, Joe and Charlie, most likely even Charles himself.</p><p>He walks her to the train station, helps her into the carriage and says his goodbye. Catching a glimpse of his face, she sees the stern façade of the butler has cracked, revealing the soft man she had only seen glimpses of before. There is a question on his lips, and she has to cut him off before he can ask it, ask her to marry him and make their union, however brief, right before the eyes of God.</p><p>The trains horn sounds twice, signaling its imminent departure and if she doesn’t tell him now, she knows she never will.</p><p>So with a heavy heart she asks him the one question she hopes will break his heart. “Mr. Carson, would walk me down the aisle?”</p><p> </p><p>------------------</p><p> </p><p>He lay awake that night, his mind rushing with thoughts about what they did in the garden. It must have hurt her; he has heard many men at the pub talk about how women always hurt down there when they first laid with a man.</p><p>Blames himself for not even having the common decency to undress her, taking her like a back-alley whore who is used then forgotten.</p><p>Thinks of how fruitless it was for her. Gods, for the first time he wishes he were more experienced in matters of the flesh. Embarrassed he’s remained chaste from the relations of husband and wife the way other men hadn’t. He never had much in the way of possessions in this world, all he really had was his virtue and a good name. Now, he didn’t even have that. She had asked him to give her away to the other man who she believed would treat her better.</p><p>Burying his face in his hands he thinks of the years of self-control and denial. As a lad he denied himself the pleasure he and his friends had joked about, laughed along trying to hide that he rarely touched himself for fear of going blind and repented in church the few times he did. All of it flushed down the drain in a single moment of weakness.</p><p>But still, <em>She called me Charles </em>and a fleeting smile crosses his face before he finally drifts to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bllaaarrrrggghhh. Huuuurggehh. Huuuurggehh.</p><p>For the third morning in a row Elsie was camped in the loo, speaking Welsh. After a moment of resting her head against the cool porcelain of the bathtub she gathered herself together enough to head to the kitchen and make herself a ginger tea. <em>It’s only wedding jitters, nothing more</em> she kept telling herself, <em>it will go away soon enough.</em></p><p>With her stomach now calmed, she dressed in her favorite Sunday dress, the lilac one. Upon removing her nightgown, she took advantage of the moment to take stock now that she was home alone. Overall, she felt she was in decent shape for a woman 50 years of age. Her arms and legs were fairly toned and her while the skin of her belly may not be as smooth as it once was, it was still flat. Finally, she brought her attention to the one area she avoided most when she dressed, her breasts. As a young woman she was always self-conscious of their size, but for the last month a lump no larger than the pad of her thumb haunted her thoughts. <em>In a few hours you’ll recite your vows to Joe, then you can see a doctor about this <strong>thing</strong> growing on you</em>. Shaking her head to rid her of negative thoughts, she finished dressing and headed for the church where Joe would be waiting with Charlie and Peter. She only hoped she wouldn’t find herself embarrassed come nightfall when she and Joe would consummate their marriage.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Arriving at the church, she slipped into a small room off the vestibule where she smoothed her dress and fixed her hair in the mirror. A knock sounded at the door and she checked the clock before opening it.<em> Twenty minutes to go, it must be the vicar coming to check in</em>. To her surprise it wasn’t the vicar, it was Anna and Thomas who was holding a dapper looking Charlie.</p><p>“Thomas! Anna! The ceremony is about to start, you two should be sitting in the pews.”</p><p>“We just wanted to check on you before the big moment. Joe asked us to hold Charlie during the ceremony since Peter will be standing with him at the altar as best man.” Elsie only half heard Anna as she took Charlie from Thomas and held him high in the air, enjoying the squeals of laughter emanating from the tiny being “We also thought you’d like to see Charlie since Joe took the boys to an inn for the night.” Anna said with a smile, clearly her guess had been right.</p><p>“Did Joe buy you get this outfit?” she asked Charlie. All parents thought their child was the best-looking thing on earth, but Charlie was, without a doubt, the handsomest tot clad in his little white collared shirt, light blue shorts with matching braces, bowtie, and flat cap.</p><p>“Actually, that was me Miss. Hughes. A smart looking lad like Charlie should look his best at his aunt’s wedding.” Elsie thanked him with a smile and handed Charlie back. How could it not be Thomas to dote on her wee one.</p><p>Another knock and the vicar poked his head through. “We’re ready to start now Miss Hughes if you and your bridesmaid would like to take your places.”</p><p><em>Bridesmaid? </em>Anna’s earlier comment finally sank in. Elsie and Joe hadn’t discussed bridesmaids and ushers, but Joe had gone ahead and chosen Peter. She only had one choice.</p><p>“Anna, will you be my chief bridesmaid? … and only bridesmaid?”</p><p>Anna giggled “It would be an honor Mrs. Hughes.” And left with Thomas to take their places.</p><p>Elsie took one last glance at herself in the mirror to steady herself and fingered the area above her dress where she knew the lump lay. <em>The next time you see your reflection you will be the wife of a good man, and Charlie will be forever safe</em>.</p><p>Nerves steeled, she pushed open the door to the vestibule and came face to face with Charles.</p><p>“M-Mr. Carson, wha-whatever are you doing here?”</p><p>“Did you not ask me to walk you down the aisle?” For the first time she could remember, he bucked expectations and confounded her. Asking him to give her away was a slap to the face, not a privilege. “These are for you,” he proffered a purple bouquet of primrose, bluebells, and cuckoo flowers “I presumed you’d be wearing that dress.”</p><p>She thanked him, took his arm, and allowed him to steer them to the nave’s entrance. They could see Joe and Peter with their backs to them, waiting for her to join them, and she involuntarily gripped Charles’ arm a little harder to keep herself from running away.</p><p>“You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to, not truly.” He whispered, sensing her anxiety.</p><p>“I must Mr. Carson. Charlie needs a home and a father.” Her voice equally hushed.</p><p>Charles simply nodded and waited for the vicars’ signal.</p><p>“I have a lump.” The words burst from her mouth before she had even thought them. Heavens knows why.</p><p>Charles looked at her perplexedly for a moment, and his bushy eyebrows rose comically high on his head when everything finally sank in. “Oh.” An awkward pause followed as he chose his words carefully “well… if you ever choose to come back, Lord Grantham is compassionate to those outside his family, especially children… And the abbey has hidden a child or two in its time if you want to take that route. The staff fawned over the child on your last visit, even though they have not seen him yet. Keeping secrets is part of the job after all.”</p><p>“It’s a nice thought Mr. Carson, very nice indeed, but it’s too late now. Joe is a good man and I couldn’t hurt him by turning him down in front of all his friends.”</p><p>“Then let’s run away” he said as if it were that simple.</p><p>“Run awa – We cannot just run away. What about Charlie?”</p><p>“Thomas has him, there would most certainly be a brawl before he or Anna gave him up.”</p><p>They stood there in silence until vicar motioned and Charles patted her hand with a sad smile and stepped forward, only to be held back by Elsie, who was rooted to the spot. Her mind was buzzing with his words. Life at Downton with Charlie, Becky, and everyone she held dear. Family, a titled job, she would have it all if she dared to risk safety for ideality.</p><p>She knelt to gently place her bouquet beside the entryway and slid her fingers down the length of Charles’ arm to interlock her fingers with his. Bringing her eyes to his, they turned around and raced away from the church never looking back.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Their feet took them to the bus stop which they rode to the neighboring town. Deeming it far enough, Charles convinced her to stop in at a café for breakfast and a chance to control their jitters. She refused to talk about the jilting, they were only a town over and prying ears were still consequential in small towns, so they talked about nothing. They ate in comfortable silence with her fixing his tea just right and he insisting on paying the full tab with some takeaway shortbread.</p><p>Not ready to head back to the abbey just yet, they walked a lonely dirt road and finally addressed that which they have deliberately ignored.</p><p>“I can’t believe I ran away from my own wedding.”</p><p>“We passed by a church not long ago. It could still be your wedding day if you wanted.” They stopped, both equally amazed at the words that fell from his mouth. They stood there in awkward silence till she found the words to ease the tension.</p><p>“It’s very kind of you to offer Charles, but I don’t think it would be proper to marry a man on the day of a jilting.”</p><p>“No, you’re right. Forget I ever mentioned it.” of course she was right, but she would not be forgetting any time soon that she denied the man she loved.</p><p>“What did you mean when you said the abbey has hidden a child before? It certainly hasn’t happened in the 25 years I worked there with you.”</p><p>Charles hesitated as if he had a secret he was keeping “That will be a topic for a later time, Elsie. Soon, but later.”</p><p>“Can I ask you a question, perhaps one that is of a more personal nature?” he asks with an inquisitive look on his face.</p><p>“Go on then.”</p><p>“Why did you name him that?”</p><p><em>Oh dear, this was a question she had not expected him to ever ask.</em> “Well, Charlie is a good name.”</p><p>“Indeed it is.”</p><p>“A good, strong name”</p><p>“You’ll find no disagreements with me there, Elsie… but is that the only reason why?”</p><p>“…It could be because I also wanted to remember those I’d once held dear to me. And for God’s sake, will you start calling Charlie by his name? You haven’t said it once in the three times I’ve seen you since he was born!” That was as much as she was giving him. The last thing Charles needed was an inflated head.</p><p>A smile warmed his otherwise stoic face and he slowly closed the gap between them so they could walk arm in arm then hand in hand. They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the house which had been in a complete uproar since she left and only worsened after his lordship’s heirs perished on the Titanic last month. The last fragments of her wedding day that ceased to be was Charles pulling her behind a rather large oak tree to neck till the air began to chill.</p><p>They got their rest on the night train back to Downton leaning against the other with hands clasped.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Speaking Welsh is slang for vomiting. I just discovered it and had to use it.</p><p>Sorry this update took so long. Despite being home on the computer all day long, I rarely have time to use it to write. That and I was unhappy with the pre-wedding bit so that got a rewrite into something that is hopefully a little better.</p><p>Charlie 5 months old</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Charlie 5 months</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were absolutely famished walking up the drive to Downton after not having much other than the shortbread to munch on on the train. Checking his pocket watch, Charles surmised the staff to still be at breakfast and they would still have time for toast and tea. However, their hopes of breakfast were dashed when they opened the door to a din of screaming and an abandoned breakfast table.</p><p>“What on earth is going on?” Elsie asked a rushing William as they hung up their coats.</p><p>“Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes! The new heir has been found and he is arriving for tea with his mother. His lordships asked them to stay the week to learn the estate.”</p><p>“But why all this shouting?” Charles queried to Williams’ back, as if it weren’t obvious who the two voices belonged to.</p><p>“Into the fire, I suppose” Elsie said to Charles as they split up to calm and organize their staff.</p><p>The next person Elsie saw was Anna, who had one hand in the linen closet and the other bouncing a red-faced and bawling Charlie on her hip.</p><p>“Thank God you’re finally back,” Anna was bleary eyed with dark circles and Elsie felt more than a tinge of regret for deserting her yesterday. “Charlie didn’t sleep a wink last night.”</p><p>“He’s just a bit out of his element in a new home with lots of new people and noises.” She said while relieving Anna of the screaming child.</p><p>“Well don’t let Thomas hear you say that. He said it’s probably because he wasn’t on the men’s side where he belonged.”</p><p>With Charlie beginning to settle in her arms, Elsie instructed which bedrooms Anna and Gwen were to open before heading towards the other screaming staff member.</p><p>“Yowch!” she heard Charles exclaim as she entered the kitchens to two familiar sights. On one side of kitchen Daisy was putting the finishing touches on the upstairs breakfast and Mrs. Patmore was scurrying around concocting a grand menu for the new heir while barking instructions at Daisy. On the other side, a wailing Becky had holed herself away beside the flour bin and Charles was standing in front of her shaking his hand. Becky was having a meltdown.</p><p>“She bit me.” He said plainly as if any explanation were needed.</p><p>“I can see that; now mind Charlie for me.” She said while thrusting Charlie into his burly arms and headed back to the linen closet.</p><p>“What should I do with him?” He called after her.</p><p>“The same thing you do with all babes. Cuddle them, bounce them, sing to them, whatever it takes to soothe them -surely you remember from when the ladies upstairs were wee ones.”</p><p>“But they were baby <em>girls</em>,” he protested while holding Charlie at arm’s length “I’ve never minded a lad before.”</p><p>“Oh for heaven’s sake Mr. Carson, baby boys are the same as baby girls until you get down to the nappy. Have Daisy make up a bottle and bring him to your pantry, he’s just tired, overwhelmed and probably a bit hungry.”</p><p>Back in the kitchen with a double sized blanket and Charles out of her hair, Elsie got down on her hands and knees. It had been a long time since she dealt with one of Becky’s meltdowns and it was not something she exactly missed. Elsie slowly crawled towards her sister muttering soothing phrases to gently announce her presence. When she felt Becky had accepted her presence, Elsie wrapped her sister up in the blanket and let her cry over how everyone was being loud with their running about. There were scratch marks along Becky’s face and scalp that would need tending to later.</p><p>They sat there for 30 minutes waiting for Becky to calm enough to be moved, the two sisters then walked arm in arm around the gardens while Elsie reminded Becky on how to manage herself with quiet walks outside or putting on earmuffs.</p><p>Eventually they crossed paths with Mr. Allen who approached them before Elsie could change course.</p><p>“Everything alright Becky?” Mr. Allen asked keeping his tone kind. “Were everyone in the servant’s hall being loud again?”</p><p>Elsie breathed a sigh of relief. Few people knew how to interact with someone like Becky and Mr. Allen seemed to have a knack for it.</p><p>Becky nodded a yes to Mr. Allen who offered her his arm. “You know what, my missus whipped up a fine tin of fudge for the crew. What say you n me go and sneak a few before everyone else finds ‘em.”</p><p>“What if someone gets mad at us?” Becky asked sheepishly though her eyes had lit up at the word fudge.</p><p>“No one here is going to get mad at you, now come on.”</p><p>Becky attempted to leave Elsie for Mr. Allen and fudge but was held back by her protective sister. Becky had just calmed down, as much as she wanted her sister to lead a normal life so she could get back to hers, letting her go now could result in another meltdown.</p><p>As if the gardener could read minds, he addressed Elsie’s concern. “It’s alright Mrs. Hughes, I grew up with a cousin like Becky. Kindest soul you ever met, just needs a bit of help on occasion.”</p><p>Stunned, Elsie loosened her grip allowing Becky to join the gardener. A stroke of luck that, for the first time in years, Elsie felt she was doing more than just coping.</p><p>Back inside, she knocked on the door to Mr. Carson’s pantry. Inside she found Charles working away at his desk while rocking Charlie in a cradle by foot. He shushed her indicating that Charlie was indeed asleep. It was a curious sight to see a cradle downstairs, but the closer she crept the more peculiar this cradle got. This cradle was made from roughhewn panels of oak with drips in the stain and the letter “C” clumsily carved into the foot board. This cradle most certainly didn’t belong to the family, she didn’t think any Crawley child ever laid in a bed as rudimentary as this one.</p><p>“Wherever did this cradle come from?” Curiosity getting the better of her.</p><p>Charles sighed. “It’s my cradle, Mrs. Hughes. Mum died shortly after giving birth to me in London. Either I did some damage on the way out or some of the afterbirth was left inside. Father never spoke of it much. Afterwards, Father moved back to Downton with his parents and worked here as a groom, built this cradle for me to sleep in. It’s not perfect, he had the palsy and it interfered with his craftmanship. Lord and Lady Grantham never came down here in those days, so they never knew I was being hidden here. Palsy took my father when I was naught 6 years old. Nan and grandad took me in after that and Nan was hired on as an aide to nanny for Rosamund and Robert. Four years later, Nan died of a heart attack and grandad followed two months later – palsy there too. By that time the butler, Mr. Beet, was keen on me and hired me on as a junior hall boy. I spent every day working for his approval, he and this house were the closest thing I had left to family. This cradle is all I have left of my Father… and now it belongs to Charlie.”</p><p>“Mr. Carson, I couldn’t possibly – “</p><p>“No arguments Mrs. Hughes. The lad most likely spent last night in a lined drawer and look where it got us. Besides,” he stood and straightened his waistcoat “I won’t be using it anyhow.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day had been a chaotic mess between welcome the newest members of the family and scheduling activities for the duration of their stay. Sitting down for the first time other than to wolf down a meal, Elsie started sorting through the heap of papers scattered across her desk. <em>Bills unpaid, books unbalanced, schedules disregarded or unconfirmed. 25 years of perfect housekeeping and it’s all gone to pot in 5 months.</em> A bell tinkled in the hallway and she felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor footman who had to run back upstairs for the umpteenth time and cater to the family.</p><p>O’Brien knocked and entered her sitting room with that nasty smile of hers pasted across her face. “You have some visitors waiting in the hall.” And left providing no other information.</p><p>Elsie felt her heart begin to beat rapidly. It wasn’t a good sign for O’Brien to be this gleeful over a visitor of hers. Preparing to confront Joe after embarrassing him in front of everyone he knew, she quicky rifled through her bottom drawer and downed a hefty dram of scotch straight from the bottle.</p><p>Walking down the hall she could hear two familiar voices talking animatedly.</p><p>“Colin? Aiden?” <em>And no Joe or Peter in sight</em>, she noted with relief.</p><p>“Miss Hughes!” Aiden said brightly “We’ve come to deliver your things, only Anna and another maid already offered to take your trunk upstairs so you could unpack later.”</p><p>“And we also have some post for you as well.” Colin chimed in, retrieving two envelopes from his breast pocket and handed them over. One from Mr. Murray had already been torn open and the other was not postmarked and bore Joe’s handwriting. “I hope you trust that neither Aiden nor I read through your post.” Colin added quietly.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m well aware of who opened this.” And tucked the envelopes into her pocket. “Now, you’ve likely had much to eat since breakfast. Have a seat and Becky will ask Mrs. Patmore to whip you up something.”</p><p>The boys happily agreed and took seats across from Thomas and Miss. O’Brien, something she knew she was going to regret later.</p><p>Back behind the locked door of her sitting room, Elsie began reading the letter from Mr. Murray.</p><p>
  <em> 27 May 1912</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Miss Elsie Hughes,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We are sorry to relay the following information, but Lytham St Annes Mental Hospital has recently filed for bankruptcy forcing us to indefinitely suspend our case against them. As such, we are unable to sue and mitigate expenses relating to past and future adult care or child rearing. We send our deepest regards in this unfortunate time.<strike></strike></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sincerely,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>George Murray</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her shoulders slumped. Elsie was never one to carry a defeatist attitude, but she secretly hoped the money from that lawsuit could have helped her save for some sort of retirement. Instead it was back to scrimping and saving to support her now expanded family and hope her body cooperated for as long as she needed it to. Tucking it back into its envelope, she turned her attention to Joe’s letter. She ran her fingers across her name written in the now familiar script. So much had changed in 24 hours, she had her own whirlwind of emotions to sort out and she didn’t want to know the hurt and shame she had put Joe through. Still, she made her decision and now it was time to fully examine the damage she inflicted.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My Dearest Elsie,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I do not know any other way to express my feeling other than to say my heart is utterly in shambles. Leaving a man at the altar when he loves you dearly, offers you heart and home at your lowest and builds you back to be the strong woman he knows is the most despicable thing a woman can do. Reading your letter and learning you will never receive the payout you were seeking was the balm for my aching heart, for I assume the money would have given you the freedom to run away and chase a dream once more. I am not sorry for taking you and Charlie in, nor do I regret my attempts to forge a family with you from scraps, but from this day on my trust in you has been irreparably damaged. I will not seek you out again and I suggest you do the same.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>One thing I have learned through all this, is to hire legal assistance when you have been gravely hurt. With any luck the next letter you receive will be from my solicitor. To put things plainly<strong>, I am suing you for abandonment</strong>.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Forever yours,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Joe Burns</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Elsie read and reread the final sentence till tears blurred her sight. She had expected his letter to be filled with anger and sadness and disappointment, perhaps even a bit of begging for her return, but a lawsuit was not something she foresaw. A single tear fell as she cursed whatever power kept dragging her away from Joe. More tears fell as she held the letter close. It was too late to take it back, right her wrongs and make amends. Another irritating staff member knocked on her door and jiggled the handle, was it so difficult to get more than a moment of solitude in this godforsaken hell hole? Elsie quickly stuffed the letter deep within her desk drawer and wiped her eyes before opening the door.</p><p>“Mr. Carson,” the most irritating staff member of them all “what is it you need?” she was in no mood for courtesy tonight.</p><p>“Her ladyship has requested your presence upstairs…. Are you alright Mrs. Hughes?” he asked searching her reddened eyes.</p><p>“I’m quite alright, now please step aside and let me through.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've written some and added to the last chapter! Go back and read, start with: The rest of the day had been a chaotic mess</p><p>Charlie 7 months</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charles reached across the table to refill her sherry glass.</p><p>“You’re certainly being a little heavy handed with the spirits tonight.” Elsie said settling further back into her chair. The house was finally caught up on bills, kitchen needs were finally met by the grocer, cleaning rotas were back on track and Mr. Crawley and his mother had settled into their new lifestyle.</p><p>“Well I for one have missed our chats.” He replied nonchalantly.</p><p>“Oh? Anything particular on your mind then Charles?” she asked slyly. Something had undoubtedly been bothering him for a while now, but it wasn’t her business to pry. Perhaps it would have been if they picked up from the afternoon of her non-wedding, but instead they went straight back to being Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, butler and housekeeper of Downton Abbey and nothing more.</p><p>“Actually, there is something on my mind and I shall speak plainly about it.” He tugged at his waistcoat as he always did when he was uncomfortable or asserting himself as butler. “Now I know you’ve only just gotten everything back up to snuff, but you have been home for two months… Is it my imagination or have you been deliberately avoiding Dr. Clarkson?”</p><p>“Of course not.” she cast her eyes downward, a tell that Charles would surely pick up on.</p><p>“Well I am granting you your half day early. Tomorrow I want you to see Dr. Clarkson at his surgery for an examination.”</p><p>“There’s hardly a need to rush this.” Especially when said examination could result in her dying.</p><p>“There absolutely is. As butler, the wellbeing of the staff falls under my jurisdiction, the whole staff. If you continue to delay your appointment, I will be forced to call Dr. Clarkson here and have you examined in your sitting room.”</p><p>“Very well then, tomorrow I’ll visit Dr. Clarkson and see what he has to say.”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Well the lump itself seems separate from the breast, which is a very good sign.” Dr. Clarkson said as he prepared her sample to be sent off. “Are you experiencing any other symptoms such as fatigue or general illness?”</p><p>“I have been a bit more tired than usual and the morning sick I had from my wedding jitters only just started to become less frequent. I also think I may have had a recurring fever – I’d be perfectly comfortable one moment then hot and sweaty the next.” She was rambling now “I also have soreness in both breasts and about three months ago I was bleeding rather heavily for a month from my monthlies even though I have undergone the change.”</p><p>“That very well may be so, Mrs. Hughes.” he said while jotting something down in her chart “I see it’s been a little over a year since your physical, what say we get that taken care of and before we send you on your way?”</p><p>….</p><p>“Right, heart and lungs seem clear, your vision is adequate, and you’ve put on nearly a stone.”</p><p>“A stone?” Elsie repeated incredulously. She had resolved to watch her diet more when she noticed her corset fitting tighter than usual, but a stone?</p><p>“One more examination left. Mrs. Hughes, if you could please lie back and bring your heels to your bum and let your legs fall open… perfect.”</p><p>Elsie stared determinedly at the ceiling and tried to ignore Dr. Clarkson as he slid the cold, greased metal between her legs and spread her open. It wasn’t until he made a noise and she looked down to see his eyebrows drawn together in concern.</p><p>He closed her legs and came around the examination table so they were face to face. “Mrs. Hughes, perchance have you been taken advantage of recently? I only ask because you have vaginal scarring patterns common with rape.”</p><p>“Thankfully no, I haven’t endured anything of that sort.”</p><p>“So, all relations were consensual?”</p><p>“Yes.” She was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable now under his gaze.</p><p>“Right. One more thing and you’ll be free to go, I promise.”</p><p>She nodded and watched as he took his stethoscope back out, placed it to her belly, nodded as if confirming something and cleared his throat.</p><p>“Congratulations Mrs. Hughes, you are pregnant.”</p><p>“Pregnant!” she exclaimed “How on earth could I be pregnant? I haven’t had my monthlies for almost a year.”</p><p>“Well first of all, I believe you to be along about three months right now – baby has a heartbeat. Secondly, I believe you may have been experiencing perimenopause, the period before true menopause. It would certainly explain the heavy bleeding and your fever was most likely hot flashes. It would be difficult to conceive during this time, but it is not unheard of.”</p><p>Dr. Clarkson went on to explain the risks of what he was calling a geriatric pregnancy, gave her some simple instructions to follow and obtained a urine sample from her that he found to be satisfactory.</p><p>“Before you go, I’m going to write you a prescription for a surgical lubricant. I want you to use it next time you have relations. It should reduce future scarring and make things more enjoyable for you.”</p><p>Elsie thanked him as she took the slip of paper where the only legible letters of his scribbling were a K and a Y.</p><p>“Oh and Mrs. Hughes,” Dr. Clarkson called after her “I hope things go well if you decide to tell Jo – the father.”</p><p>“Thank you, Dr. Clarkson, I’ll need all the luck I can get to tell the father.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Her feet automatically carried her back to the house without needing coherent thought to guide them. <em>Pregnant, with Charles’ child.</em> Every detail of that worried her. Charles had been the only member of the downstairs that hadn’t fallen in love with Charlie. He was gentle with children, but he only ever doted on the girls and rarely did more than look at the boys. Would he act the same if she birthed a wee laddie? What if they married and she had a daughter? It would kill her to have Charlie feel second-rate in his own family.</p><p>Entering the servant’s domain, Charlie crawled over to greet her.</p><p>“My what a little mover you’re turning out to be. I bet you’ll be walking in no time.” A frightening thought in itself. They went past the staff to her sitting room where Charlie sat gnawing on a wooden block to soothe his aching gums. Eventually he fussed as the pain got more unbearable leading Elsie to reach for her bottle of scotch. She had just finished rubbing a drop on his gums when Charles entered and closed the door behind them.</p><p>“Well, is it..?” A hopeful look in his eye as he took his usual seat.</p><p>“I don’t know. I won’t know for some time. He sent off a sample of the fluid and it may take a couple of months before he knows the results.”</p><p>“Right, I don’t want you getting too tired between now and then.” He stood up heavily from the chair “Did Dr. Clarkson say anything else I should be aware of?”</p><p>“He said…” she paused to look at her bookshelf, the trinkets neatly arranged in her cabinet, the worn rug in need of a beating, anything to not look him in the eye as she crushed his black and white world where babies only came to young, married couples.</p><p>“Go on” Charles was getting impatient. He had a very important dinner to preside over and if all went well, his Lady Mary would secure a safe future with Sir Richard Carlisle.</p><p>There was no easy way of doing this she supposed, sometimes it was best to just come out and say things. “Dr. Clarkson confirmed I am three months pregnant.”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Tonight’s dinner for the family was a particularly stressful affair as Lady Mary’s appalling suitor bickered over trivial matters with his lordship when he wasn’t moaning about how the efforts of the staff were not up to his level. As Charles poured the wine his mind was racing with thoughts of everything else on his proverbial plate. <em>There would be scandal for sure. He would have to marry Elsie now, not that he didn’t want to, but he wanted to marry her on their own terms in retirement. He needed to learn how to be a father. How was he was going to be a father when his only father figure had been a butler, a butler who tolerated your presence if you remained useful? Butlers were more role models than fathers. </em>He gulped<em>. There was a chance that he could be a widower and a single father to two children as well depending on Elsie’s results.</em></p><p>A crash and a shriek brought him from his reverie. A footman had dropped the sauce squarely in Lady Edith’s lap, breaking the china in the process. Thomas and William abandoned their plates to pull Lady Edith away from the table while the errant footman picked up the china.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry. I can take it downstairs and mend it just like new.”</p><p>“You’ll no such thing.” Charles cut in with cloth now in hand as he attempted to clean her dress “Take that down at once and toss it in the bin.” <em>Stupid bloody footman couldn’t even serve sauce without mucking it up in front of an important guest. </em>“Our deepest apologies, L-Lady Edith, I-I’ll –”</p><p>A tightness took over his chest and he crumpled to the floor wheezing, still trying to spit out an apology. The entire table stood with Lady Sybil and Mrs. Crawley rushing to support him.</p><p>“He’s having a heart attack; someone call for Dr. Clarkson. Matthew, come help us move him up to his bed.” Mrs. Crawley ordered.</p><p> </p><p>“MRS. HUGHES!” William came barreling down the steps almost colliding with her while she and Charlie were playing with their reflections in the mirror.</p><p>“There’s no need to shout, I’m right here William.” She said as Anna, Bates and O’Brien came around the corner to investigate the fuss.</p><p>“It’s Mr. Carson, he grabbed his chest and collapsed in the dining room. Mrs. Crawley said it’s a heart attack.”</p><p><em>I’ve given the man a heart attack.</em> “Scoot aside, let me pass William.”</p><p>“Mrs. Hughes –” he began to speak as he stepped away from the narrow staircase.</p><p>“See that someone calls Dr. Clarkson, use the phone in Mr. Carson’s pantry.” She instructed as she ran up to the dining room.</p><p>“Wait, please, Mrs. Hughes!” Anna and Bates called after her to no avail.</p><p>Elsie burst through to the dining room to witness Charles being escorted elsewhere with his arms around Mr. Crawley and Thomas. The frenetic chattering came to a sudden halt as all eyes fell to her and Charles’ eyes bugged out even more seeing her upstairs during service.</p><p>“Mr. Hughes…” Thomas said quietly while looking directly at her.</p><p>It wasn’t until she heard a loud “Da” that she realized Charlie was still in her arms.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>On chapter 14, I finally wrote some smut</p><p>Charlie 7 months, Elsie 3 months</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well it’s definitely not a heart attack, but he still needs rest.” Doctor Clarkson announced to everyone’s relief.</p><p>The family engaged Dr. Clarkson for a brief questioning, giving Elsie a chance to slip away unnoticed. It may have been improper for a servant to leave their family unannounced, but Thomas was there to tend to the party and she figured a hushed exit fell into the grey area now that Dr. Clarkson had emerged from the attics.</p><p>Her entire world had changed in the span of a few hours once again, only this time the wellbeing of herself and <span class="u">two</span> small children were at stake. Down in the servant’s hall she announced Dr. Clarkson’s diagnosis and went straight to Charles’ pantry to start sorting tomorrow’s schedules and duties for the footmen. It was nearly 10 o’clock when she finally closed his ledgers and decided it would be better to go to bed now and revise her own ledgers tomorrow morning.</p><p>At the top of the stairs she stood in front of the door that separated the sexes and crossed over to the men’s corridor to check on Charles. She knocked softly as to warn him if he were awake, but not loud enough to disturb him if he were asleep. Opening the door, she found him awake reading by candlelight.</p><p>“Mrs. Hughes.” He said as he tried to straighten himself in his bed while awkwardly gesturing for her to take the chair in the corner.</p><p>“Don’t get yourself all worked up over me, I just came to check on you before heading off to bed.” she said moving the chair closer to his bedside.</p><p>“That bloody doctor wants me to stay away from work for three days.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t say things like that.” She admonished “Besides, it’s only three days. It’ll be a nice break to clear your head from – from everything.”</p><p>The silence grew thick around them for a bit as they tried to find a way to broach the next subject.</p><p>“What did the family say about Charlie?”</p><p>“They were definitely surprised to learn we had hidden a child downstairs for two months, but they haven’t outright objected to him. They thought I had given him up to come back to work.” She paused “I told them about my visit with Doctor Clarkson this afternoon, I feared he might come down and accidentally spill our secret before it was time. It probably was the right time anyway all things considering.”</p><p>“And their verdict? Do we still have our jobs?”</p><p>“You still have your job; I didn’t mention your involvement in this predicament.”</p><p>“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell them it’s my child?”</p><p>“Because I know how much you love this job, Charles. Downton is everything to you, your only home and I don’t want to take that away from you. Anyway, Charlie and I will be moved to a cottage soon while I await their judgement.”</p><p>“Downton has been my only home, but I could never abandon you and our child to the streets. I want to make an honorable woman of you, if you would find it agreeable, even if it means the both of us leaving here and taking a job in a shop.”</p><p>“I’m not convinced I can be hearing this right.”</p><p>“You are if you think I’m asking you to marry me.” He rolled over to take her hand in his. “Please Elsie, it would only be proper for us to wed as soon as possible, while you are still not showing.”</p><p><em>“</em>Proper?<em>” Could this man think of anything other than propriety? </em></p><p>“You’ll have to give me time to think about it”</p><p>“Of course, I won’t press you for an answer just yet.”</p><p>They sat there is silence for a bit. What did one say after neither accepting nor turning down a proposal?</p><p>“Well, I best be getting off to bed before it gets much later. We will have a long day trying to cover for our butler.”</p><p>“Yes, good night Mrs. Hughes.”</p><p>“Elsie…” He called just before she stepped over the threshold “it is my child, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes, it is Charles, there’s no reason to worry it could be his.”</p><p> </p><p>The air in her bedroom was stuffy, even for a hot August night. She tossed in her bed attempting to get some sleep before tomorrow’s marathon day, but her body wouldn’t let her rest. The family was aware of her pregnancy which meant the staff would know soon enough if they didn’t already.</p><p>She grunted and threw her pillow across the room. It was time to quench this fire in her loins that burned since the afternoon at the cottages with Charles. Parting her legs slightly, she ran a finger along the slick folds and circled the sensitive little button that lay beneath. Her mind wandered back to earlier this evening when she and William had helped Charles change from his livery to his pajamas, William changing his bottom half while she changed his top half. It had been a rather intimate moment between the two of them even with the footman present. They made little eye contact as she worked on his collar and the little buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. She could still remember the smooth skin of his bare chest beneath her fingers as she worked her way down. The heat had radiated off him like a boiler and the soft thatch of chest hair brushed against her skin as his shirt and vest were pulled away.</p><p>Frustratingly, it simply wasn’t enough she thought as she got out of bed and searched her vanity. <em>Ah yes, this should do fine.</em> Back in her bed, she rubbed the button again while retrieving the special jelly from her bedside table. Squeezing a bit into her hand, she rubbed it along the handle of her brush and gently inserted it where she needed it most. A fullness overtook her like she never felt before as she moved it about inside her and her mind recreated that afternoon with Charles, albeit in a more ideal fashion. His lips were soft and gentle on hers like that moment in the barn and his bare body pressed against hers. A hand wandered up to her breast thinking how it would perfectly fill his large paw of a hand and how he would move so effortlessly between her hips. A wave of relief flooded over her as her body began to shake and she came down from her high with the brush still inside her, wishing it were him staying with her after this moment.</p><p> </p><p>Charles tucked himself into bed after she left, but sleep evaded his tired body. He could still remember the feel of her fingers just grazing his abdomen, so close to his waistline, and he had been thankful his body had not reacted then as it was now. Pressing a pillow over his head, he knew sleep wouldn’t come unless he took care of this problem that had been growing since that fateful afternoon when he lost control and unintentionally became a father. Exposing his member to the nights air, he firmly strokes imagining Elsie’s delicate hand wrapped around him with a shining ring on her finger. He spreads the precum around the head and shivers in delight thinking it could one day be Elsie’s tongue swirling around and driving him crazy.</p><p>He turns his head and groans into the pillow, it simply wasn’t enough to get him off. Gingerly getting out of bed, he grabbed the jar of pomade off his bureau and warmed a few fingerfuls of the greasy substance before rubbing it all over his dick. Back on his bed he is on his knees with both pillows sandwiched tightly together before him. He pushes between the pillows thinks of how things should have been between them. They would join in bed as man and wife, him atop her, tending to her every need. The areas between their legs would be only one bridge of flesh as hands and lips would be free to explore the skin they’ve exposed to no one else. Eventually she would quake beneath him, prompting him to release his seed deep inside her, then hold her close through the night.</p><p>Collapsing on his bed as the euphoria overtook his senses, he finally felt the calm he was sure Doctor Clarkson wanted him to find.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning Mrs. Hughes.” His lordship greeted as she set out the breakfast plates and cutlery.</p><p>“Good morning Lord Grantham. I hope it wouldn’t be too impertinent to question whether you have reached a decision about my future here?”</p><p>“Indeed I have. Your tenure here has been some of the most productive out of any housekeeper Downton has seen. The house barely stayed together when you left early this year and I wouldn’t put it past Carson to leave with you if I did send you elsewhere.” Elsie was ecstatic over having her job, until Lord Grantham continued. “However, appearances are everything in British upper class, so I must insist the two of you wed before the child’s birth. The two of you will live in a cottage together and set an example for the people of Downton.”</p><p><em>Blast these toffs! It was bad enough she was pregnant, now she was forced to choose between marriage and homelessness because another bleeding toff might gossip.</em> It seemed as if her mind was made up for her yet again.</p><p>“I know I speak for Mr. Carson when I saw we are grateful for the opportunity to stay on. I shall tell him of your decision tonight.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So for this chapter we will follow Charles around instead of Elsie. He too has a lot troubling his mind, so a day of shopping is needed.</p><p>Charlie 7 months, Elsie 3 months</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two days of lounging in bed had been more than enough for the usually active butler. It wasn’t doing him any good to be stuck in bed dwelling on the future anyhow. No, today he would use his mandatory time off to do something useful and put his mind at ease.</p><p>After a quick wash he took a moment to critically examine himself in the mirror, something he has not done in quite some time. Stress eating meant he filled out his livery a bit more than he did as a footman and it would be something he would have to work on before the child came; perhaps he could even lose a stone or two before the wedding. His chest and shoulders were big and burly with a smattering of hair between his pectoral muscles. Magazines today favored male models with muscle, but he and Elsie were of an age where slim men were desirable. Crazily enough, he hoped Elsie was modern enough to find it attractive. Physicality aside, he felt he had at least grown into his facial features as he aged.</p><p>He quickly dressed in his day suit and headed downstairs to find the staff at an early breakfast.</p><p>“What’s all this?” he asked Elsie, taking his place so the rest of the staff could resume their meal.</p><p>“While you’re supposed to be upstairs <span class="u">resting</span>,” she said rather pointedly “the rest of us have been starting a half hour earlier to compensate for your absence. So it begs the question, why are you all dolled up and downstairs when a tray has been set aside for you?”</p><p>“I am all dolled up, as you say, because I have had enough lazing about and am heading into the village today.”</p><p>“Oh no you are not. Doctor Clarkson was very serious about you not pushing yourself.” She scolds him indignantly.</p><p>“I hardly think a languid walk could be considered pushing myself. Although, I rather hoped we could set the date for our nuptials sooner than later. Perhaps I could even stop in at the church and see what Reverend Travis has available.”</p><p>“Right. Well, I think I’ll just trust you with that if you’re set on taking care of that today.” He noticed she tried and failed to hide a dejected look. Women loved weddings; how could she not have a say about her own?</p><p>They finished their breakfast with intermittent conversation about the wedding till she excused herself to look after Charlie. She looked more tired lately with dark circles around her eyes and he hoped it was only the additional workload causing her distress and not the other thing. With a sigh he pushed away the last of his bland oats and headed for the door. He decided it would be best to take the earliest time slot so he could insist she retire and rest, even if that day was tomorrow or a Tuesday.</p><p>Setting off down the gravel driveway, Charles felt his nerves begin to take over his body again. it was always like this whenever he faced a scandal. The gossip would start once he spoke with Reverend Travis, and the credibility he built within the community would be flushed down the drain. This is how it was to be till he and Elsie were wed and the scandal eventually forgotten about.</p><p> </p><p>Reverend Travis, predictably, had been surprised by his request. It shamed him to think he might be the first butler in England to marry, to the pregnant housekeeper nonetheless. Still, he got what he came for and left with a date secured for Saturday, September 14<sup>th</sup>, one month away exactly.</p><p>Standing at the bus stop, Charles wondered how much of his remaining itinerary would be appropriate. It was a bit late to purchase Elsie a set of gloves seeing as they were already engaged, and though he was in a good spot financially, spending money on a diamond ring when he would have to provide for a wife and two children seemed injudicious. He didn’t even know if Elsie would want an engagement ring. Her prudence may have been born out of necessity, having to fend for Becky’s wellbeing and all, but he didn’t know if she would find that level of extravagance to be vulgar or desirable. That was the problem though, he didn’t know what she wanted at all. From him, from their marriage, to their child, it was all a hazy mist that she left him to grope through on his own. Well she is getting a wedding ring; he would remain adamant on that at least. There is a tightness forming in his chest as he boards the bus to Thirsk, and he takes a seat by the window to ease his worries.</p><p>Instead, his mind shifts to other thoughts about marriage, the wedding night in particular. Charles was still beating himself up over the lack of fulfillment of their previous encounter on a regular basis. What he needed was someone he could talk to, but there was quite literally no one available to him. The only married man in the abbey was Lord Grantham, and he refused to take sexual advice from his employer. Mr. Bates was a trustworthy man, slightly younger than him but still of an appropriate age, but Charles had no idea of the man’s history and doubted he would share any information anyway. All that was left were the footmen, who would surely get a laugh at a man of his age seeking guidance on pleasuring a woman.</p><p>Stepping off near the workhouses, Charles works his way through the throng of people with his hat pulled down low. There is little chance anyone that knows him would be in the more unsavory parts of Thirsk, but one could never be too careful when his job was already on the line. He stops in at a sordid little shop for adults. Inside he is surprised to find it looks like an average bookshop. Against the far wall there are several shelves labeled <strong>Men</strong> from which he picks up a book with an interesting title. The inside sleeve indicates a romance between Adam and Jonathan, two men who find comfort in each other while working in France. He immediately shelves the book and huffs over to another set of shelves labeled <strong>General</strong>. He grabs a random book and confirms the characters are indeed male and female before perusing the titles. Eventually he settles on a book called Highclere Castle, a fictional estate in Yorkshire where the butler, James, hides an ongoing tryst with the housekeeper, Phyllis. Ignoring a room that has been curtained off, he doesn’t want to know what foul things lie beyond, he plops his book down at the register and takes out his wallet. On display next to him is another book, Married Love by Marie Stopes.</p><p>“It’s new, that one.” The clerk informs him “Sort of a manual for a happy marriage, been flying off the shelves all over England.”</p><p>It’s written by a female doctor and the chapters cover everything from a woman’s contrariness, to romance to children. Charles hands the book to the clerk, figures he would need all the help he could get at the rate things were going.</p><p>The clerk wraps both books in brown paper and twine so Charles can rejoin the mass of people populating the pavement without garnering looks.</p><p>“Charlie? That you Charlie Carson?” Charles’ blood runs cold, he recognizes that voice even though 35 years have passed since they last spoke.</p><p>“Grigg.” He turns to the man leaning against the workhouse wearing ragged clothing.</p><p>“You’re not still working at that big house of yours, are ya?”</p><p>Charles grabs Grigg by the collar and practically drags him down an alleyway. The last thing he needs right now is someone making a connection between him and Downton when he has indecent material on his person.</p><p>“What do you want? What are you doing here?” The two men didn’t part on good terms and Charles’s day has already been bad enough.</p><p>“I work here.” he says gesturing towards the sweat shop he is currently pinned against. “And by judging the likes of you, you’ve taken after that butler dad of yours. Get me in with, Charlie, for old times’ sake. I need it something bad.”</p><p>“You want <em>me</em> to help <em>you</em> after what you did to me? Go to hell Grigg.”</p><p>He turns to leave when Charlie Grigg says something he didn’t know could make him stop. “Do it for Alice then. She’s terribly ill.” Charles turns towards the shoddily dressed man who is happy to have found the chink in his armor. “Our days on stage fell short after you left and so did we. We fought for years, her constantly comparing me to you. Alice left me years ago, didn’t even bother writing till six months ago. She’s got a weak heart, and the doctor expects it’ll take her before the year is out.”</p><p><em>Alice is dying.</em> He’s heard of people with weak hearts before, changes them into an angry demon you don’t recognize as they slowly suffocate to their grave. Something small tugs at his heart for the woman he once loved, the same one who treated him badly enough to drive him from the stage and back to Downton.</p><p>“Look, here’s £10. It’s all I can afford, use it to make her comfortable.”</p><p>It’s a quarter of his weekly salary, a hefty amount to gift to someone you hold animosity against, but apparently not enough for Grigg. “I need a job, Charlie, and a good one at that. Put me somewhere high up or I’ll…I’ll come up to that place of yours and tell everyone about your days on stage… and how you go to that shop down there for your reading.” The desperation evident in his voice.</p><p>“You’ll do no such thing if you want to keep that 10 quid I just gave you.” They both have a firm grasp on the banknote now, and it is starting to rip.</p><p>“Fine, just keep it,” Charles shoves Grigg away “but don’t bother looking to me again for help. You’re a thief, a liar and a schemer and there’s no place for you in a respectable establishment.”</p><p>Before Grigg can protest, Charles shuts his ears and walks off as quickly as his heart will allow. <em>The nerve of the man. Threatening to make him a laughingstock and a pervert in his own home.</em> His chest is tight again and he is wheezing. When he makes it to the bus stop, he sits on the curb to regain control, lest Elsie catches on and ties him to his bed.</p><p>He takes his time walking back to the abbey and its nearly teatime when he creeps in. Thankfully, there is no sign of Elsie, so he takes a couple of egg sandwiches, some tea and biscuits to his room. When the plates are clean and the tea drunk, he settles on his bed and unwraps his books. Married Love should be a good book to start with, being written by a doctor should give it some credibility.</p><p>The book is dedicated to young husbands and those betrothed in love, of which he and Elsie are not, but perhaps if things had been different, they would have been.</p><p>A steady heat grows on his face and in his trousers as he turns page after page. ‘growing passion after love-play’ ‘harmonious relief in the perfected sex act’ ‘when her body is raised to a higher point of loveliness by the rounding and extra fullness of the breasts’.</p><p>What he finds surprising is to learn women can also orgasm and he is not the only man to leave his (future) wife wanting. ‘married women are restless after relations with their husbands, left on edge following every union, often resulting in sleepless nights and nervous diseases due to the man’s ability to effect orgasms for their wives’.</p><p>It is time for supper when he snaps the book shut. Much of his grief and worries have been erased in 185 pages and two hours. His lack of knowledge is normal, and Elsie is likely as clueless as he is. They will… what was it again, ‘repeat the blunders and stumble blindly in a maze of difficulties’, but they will do it together to build a normal and healthy marriage, and he is truly fine with this. This book may not have been the detailed instruction book on pleasuring your partner, the other book will contain insight to that most likely, but he is more sure of himself now. Were he a braver man, he might even share this book with Elsie after they marry.</p><p>Charles scrambles to hide his erection by forcing it down with the book when William knocks and pokes his head in the room. “Mrs. Hughes wanted me to tell you Mrs. Patmore will be serving dinner in 10 minutes. Will you be coming down or shall I bring up a tray?”</p><p>“There’s no need for that. Tell Mrs. Hughes I shall be down in a few moments.”</p><p>The boy nods and closes the door behind him as he runs off to deliver the message. In the meantime, Charles tries to distract himself so his erection will deflate and he can head down for supper without risking embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>“I spoke with Reverend Travis this morning; we are locked in for September 14<sup>th</sup>.”</p><p>“The 14<sup>th</sup>!” Elsie exclaims a little too loudly for table talk before reeling herself in “Are you sure that’s wise? We have so much to plan and marriage is a big commitment.”</p><p>“We are also having a child, it’s plenty reason to rush. Besides, you had few qualms about marrying Joe after only…” Charles lets his sentence trail off and he and Elsie turn their eyes to their plates. Elsie had all but walked down the aisle before she ran away with him, all out of loyalty. Suddenly everything clicks and he is worried she will leave him again. <em>She doesn’t want to marry me. She’s only agreed to keep her job. Either she leaves again, or I’ve trapped her in marriage.</em> The tightness returns to his chest and he has to fight to keep his expression neutral.</p><p>They will have to talk about this eventually, have an honest conversation well before the wedding, if it is to continue that is. For now though, he will leave it and discuss the day with the other members of staff.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Gloves were a common courtship gift in the early 1900’s. It was common for a man to buy the woman gloves if he was interested in her and it was traditionally done before the engagement. And yes, diamond engagement rings were the norm at the time. Diamond solitaire rings were kind of the standard to prove a man was financially strong enough to marry.<br/>And yes, I did download and skim through Married Love just for this.</p><p>Did I complicate this by adding Alice/Grigg? Probably, but I guess I just love piling on the problems. I’ll probably regret this and realize I forgot a plotline (like this even has a plot?) somewhere along the way.</p><p>Fun fact: Not that hetero’s weren’t into it, but erotica was way more popular with gay men back in the day. In a way, fanfiction kinda owes it to gay men looking for something juicy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Who doesn't love a nice, relaxing half day?<br/>Me! That's who.</p><p>Charlie 8 months, Elsie 4 months</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No, this hasn't been abandoned. Work got in the way and then I took a break when I realized I was more focused on putting something out and my already shabby quality was suffering from it. Here is a long chapter as compensation that I hope you'll like</p><p>FYI, these two scenes are on different days.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m off for my half day, I leave Downton and the family in your very capable hands.” He said from the doorway of her sitting room, brushing off his bowler.</p><p>“Going to tell me where you’re going this time?” she joshed knowing full well he would feed her the same lame story again.</p><p>“Same as always. Post office then off to the shops to get odds and ends. I’ll be back in time to ring the gong.” Really, if he was going to lie, take a letter with you and come back with something to corroborate your story.</p><p> </p><p>With the wedding day secured and Charles back on his feet, things began to change for the couple at Downton. Though they were already engaged, Charles insisted they start spending as much alone time together as possible. Well, time that wasn’t <em>his</em> half day at least. He insisted this was to fashion some form of courtship.</p><p>On his half days Charles donned his fullest traveling ensemble and disappeared to god knows where. When he returned to the abbey, it would be with few words and a glum expression that stuck until it was time for the servant’s supper.</p><p>Elsie smiled as she capped her pen and began neatly filing away her papers. Though she enjoyed walking around town on the arm of her handsome gentleman and having him carry heavy parcels for her, tonight was her favorite part of their faux courtship.</p><p>Tonight, when the family dinner was over and they had been settled with after dinner drinks, she and Charles would take their supper at a small table in the courtyard, adorned by tapers. The staff were under strict orders not to interrupt them on these nights unless there was an absolute emergency. It was the one hour out of the week where she could watch joy spread across his oft stony face while they shared stories and learned more about the other.</p><p> </p><p>Upon exiting her sitting room to an empty hallway and curious to find out where Charles was going on his half days, Elsie decided to snoop around his pantry for clues.</p><p>She unlocked the door and promptly took a seat behind his desk; it was highly doubtful that he would keep anything personal in the silver cupboard or wine cellar. Taking his diary from its home in the top middle drawer she flicked through the pages finding todays date which unfortunately only had his half day marked along with a few ordinary reminders for him to bark at the footmen. Flipping through the rest of his diary, nothing seemed amiss or even personal excepting the day of their wedding and the subsequent day off. <em>If there was anything indicating his days itinerary, he surely hadn’t penned it in</em> she thought as she put the diary away.</p><p>Spare starched collars. Wine aerator. Rummaging through the rest of the drawers there didn’t seem to be one bit of evidence denoting his whereabouts.</p><p>She had just about given up until she opened the bottom drawer to find a picture laying atop a book on wine pairing. It was old, very old judging by the yellowed paper and the style of dress, and it bore a picture of a pretty, young woman. There was no inscription on the back denoting who the woman was, be she family or friend or colleague.</p><p>She sighed, ready to admit defeat, when William opened the door.</p><p>“William! What are you doing in Mr. Carson’s pantry?” her voice accusatory as she hid the photograph from view.</p><p>“I ran out of silver polish and needed more from Mr. Carson… why are you in Mr. Carson’s pantry, Mrs. Hughes?” the boy innocently queried looking around the room for the absent butler.</p><p>“Er… I was… checking on Mr. Carson’s ink supply. You know he gets in a right tizzy when he has to fetch one from my sitting room.” She came up with on the spot. If she weren’t so nervous about being caught out, she would have scolded him for impertinence.</p><p>“It’s right here.” he replied, pointing to three full bottles on the shelf below the window “Didn’t you order ink last month?”</p><p>She did get a shipment of ink in last month. “Oh, you’re right!” she slapped her forehead “My memory must be failing me in my old age.”</p><p>“You can hardly be old, Mrs. Hughes, given your condition and all.” He really was such a sweet boy. How long would it be till Daisy turned her head his way.</p><p>“Thank you, William.” She dropped the picture in the drawer, closed it and reached for her keys “Now let me get you some silver polish from the cupboard.”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry I had to redraw your sample, Mrs. Hughes, but rest assured I will take this one to London with me this week and expedite your results. I think it’s fair to expect an answer by the 16<sup>th</sup>.” <em>Of course she would find out whether or not she has cancer <strong>after</strong> <strong>the wedding</strong>! </em></p><p>“Thank you, doctor.” It hadn’t been a day of pleasant results from Doctor Clarkson. He found her ankles to a be a bit swollen and her blood pressure a touch too high for his liking and he even advised her to stop wearing a maternity corset. There was no time to worry about that with five days till the wedding and so much to do.</p><p>“Ready Becky?” she found her sister who was patiently waiting outside the doctor’s surgery. Originally Elsie had only brought Becky along under the guise of a girl’s outing to deter accompaniment from Charles, but it was nice to have her sister along when they hadn’t a moment to spend together as of late.</p><p>Checking her watch as they stepped into the village square, Elsie was pleased her time in the doctor’s surgery had taken less time than she estimated. “Come on Beck, let’s poke about the shops.” And looped her arm around her sisters, ready for an afternoon of window shopping.</p><p>They spent a few minutes in the bookshop, till Becky got bored, and stopped in at the haberdashery to buy some blue ribbon and look at the new cloth patterns on display. Becky all but ran to the sweets shop and proudly used her own money to buy a bag filled with caramels and a strange peppermint candy with holes in the center for them to nosh on.</p><p>Popping a peppermint into her mouth, Elsie felt it was the perfect time to broach a potentially tender subject with her sister. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, what do you think of Mr. Carson?”</p><p>“I like him, he doesn’t yell at me the way he does the boys. Why?”</p><p>Becky’s answer was as sweet as a child’s and Elsie had to stifle a chuckle. People were either nice or mean, life was strictly black or white in that way with no hints of grey blending the two. “Well, tomorrow Mr. Carson becomes your brother. It’s exciting, don’t you think?”</p><p>Becky pondered a moment; she clearly hadn’t thought much about how things would change following the wedding. Elsie nudged her sister to finally get an “I guess so” from her sister when she stopped chewing her lip. “But how…” Becky’s sentence trailed off; she was clearly self-conscious now.</p><p>“But what?” Elsie asked as she steered her sister across the street to a less crowded area where they could speak more privately on a bench.</p><p>“Well, if you and Mr. Carson are going to get married, and he is going to be my brother…” Becky hesitated “where are we going to sleep? The boys aren’t allowed in the girl’s wing and I got in trouble for visiting Mr. Carson’s room at night. How is Lord Grantham going to put us all in one room if we can’t be in the same area?”</p><p>Elsie was puzzled trying to follow Becky’s logic till it finally clicked. Elsie had to stifle another laugh. “No, no Becky” shaking her head at her sister’s naivety “Only smaller children share bedrooms. You’ll be staying in your room at Downton and Lord Grantham has set up a nice little cottage down the lane for Mr. Carson and I to live in, just like Mam and Da.”</p><p>“Oh, right.” Becky looked ashamedly down at her shoes for not figuring things out on her own. “So you’re leaving me again?”</p><p>“You’re not quite rid of your big sister yet.” Elsie gave her sister another nudge to make her smile “You’ll see me every single day at work and you can always visit on half days.” “And you know what else…” she dropped her voice ominously. “When Mr. Carson spends the nights in London, we can have sleepovers!”</p><p>“Can we?!” Becky’s excitement peaked at the idea of having a sleepover with her sister.</p><p>“I don’t see a reason why we can’t.” Elsie said hugging her sister. She was glad to have Becky on board with the wedding… if only they both were.</p><p>Standing, the two sisters walked back to the shops to kill a few more minutes before time forced them back to the abbey. This time they entered the corner store and wandered over to the children’s area. Becky immediately headed for the dolls, determined to find one that looked like her, while Elsie busied herself looking at prams. After much deliberation she decided to treat herself and settled on the larger model in downy yellow. It was a small splurge now that Becky was no longer dependent on her ability to earn and she figured it would be more useful considering she and Charles would have two infants to cart about soon.</p><p>“Good afternoon ladies.” Mr. Tufton the clerk greets them once she corrals Becky and her new friend to the front. “Beautiful choice this one. It’ll be like having his own car for that little lad of yours.”</p><p>Before she can respond, Becky lays her doll in the pram and pulls the covering over to reveal a sizable tear in the side covering she hadn’t noticed beforehand. Before she can point out the flaw, Mr. Tufton is already around the counter and pulling the pram away. “Awfully sorry about that Mrs. Hughes, why don’t you and I look for another one together.”</p><p>Wrapping her arm around his, he escorts her back to the prams. The few of them that are in pretty colors are on the smaller side, large enough only for a single child, most of them are the standard black. It’s not often she gets to insert a little color in her life with her clothing and whatnot, but she supposes it’s better to look an undertaker than it is to juggle children in the busy streets.</p><p> “How long would it take to have another yellow pram shipped in?” she queries while resting her hand on the large black pram.</p><p>“It’ll be a few months till I can get another shipment of prams in, but I never like to disappoint a lady as lovely as you. I’ve got one in the storeroom I can have put together and wheeled up to you in a few days, how’s that sound?”</p><p>“Absolutely wonderful! You can even send the box over as is, I can have a footman set it right by tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Righto, righto. Just wait that pretty face of yours by the till and I’ll have it right out for you.”</p><p>While Mr. Tufton disappears to the room behind the register, Elsie joins Becky and her doll in the storefront where Mr. Tufton’s voice is extremely audible. “Oi, you! Grab the big yellow pram and put it on the trolley. We’ve got customers here from the big house so stop lying about.”</p><p>“Awfully sorry about that ladies,” Mr. Tufton apologizes when he emerges from the backroom “I’ve a new hire. Nice enough gent, but a bit of a wazzock.”</p><p>A few moments later a haggard looking mustachioed man in a tatty brown suit and bowler appears from the back carrying a large box. “Mrs. Hughes, Miss Hughes, allow me to introduce you to my new assistant Mr. Charles Grigg. Charlie, I want you to carry this pram to the abbey for these fine young women… and don’t muck it up.” he muttered to Mr. Grigg under his breath.</p><p>She feels a surge of pity for the man as he nods accepting his new assignment. He doesn’t appear to be a bad man in any way, just a bit ruffed up by life. It will probably be the first time he comes close to a house as grand as Downton judging by the way his face lit up when Mr. Tufton mentioned he would be delivering to the abbey.</p><p>“Could you point me in the right direction Mrs. Hughes?” Mr. Grigg asked when she paid and exited the shop “Only I’m new around here and haven’t gotten the lay of the land yet.”</p><p>“My sister and I are on our way back actually; you can walk with us.”</p><p>Grigg smiled and gestured for her to lead the way. They hadn’t made it to the end of the street when the man struck up conversation. “So, Downton Abbey, you must know Charlie Carson then.”</p><p>“Yes, in fact I do know Charles.” she replied astonishedly. The abbey was a mystery to people who lived in Downton, how on earth did this man come to know of Charles?</p><p>“Charlie and I go way back, me and him. Used to work together on stage as a double act singin’ and dancin’.”</p><p>“Well, you could knock me over with a feather.” Charles, her man, had a secret life walking the boards.</p><p>But Mr. Grigg plowed on “We were like brothers working and living together. Two young blokes learning a craft and making people smile; course he won’t even look at me today.” he finished dejectedly.</p><p>“Oh, don’t kid yourself Mrs. Hughes, I saw him just last month in Thirsk. Pinned me to a wall and threated me livelihood. Now he’s visiting me wife behind me back, all because she chose me over him years ago.”</p><p>Elsie’s paced slowed in light of this new information. <em>Could Charles really be seeing another woman behind her back? Plenty of men sowed their wild oats, much to their wife’s chagrin, but Charles was a man of honor. Their marriage admittedly was less than ideal, she readily admitted, but she never imagined there would be another woman between them.</em></p><p>They walked the rest of the way with Mr. Grigg regaling them with tales from the stage and even showing off a bit of his tap dancing, but Elsie’s mind was too preoccupied with the revelation that Charles could be sneaking around with another man’s wife. Could it be she didn’t know Charles as well as she thought?</p><p>“Right. Here we are.” Coming out of her reverie when they finally made it to the servants’ courtyard. Becky immediately bolted inside, leaving the door open for an awful din to escape.</p><p>Mr. Grigg rested his trolley and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Sounds terribly busy in there.” He gestured toward the door with one hand while the other found her lower back “Perhaps I could be of assistance by bringing this to your room for you?”</p><p>He very well could be of assistance in that manner. It would teach Charles and Mrs. Grigg the lesson that turnabout is fair play. Charles would fume seeing her walk in calmly with a former friend and afterwards she could offer him tea, which they would take behind closed doors to provoke Charles even further.</p><p>She took Mr. Grigg’s hand and placed it by his side. It wasn’t in her nature to do things like that. Her heart would always belong to Charles in the end, even if his belonged to someone else. “I think it would be best if we left this out here.”</p><p>“Right. I’ll be making me way back to the store then. Good evening Mrs. Hughes.” Tipping his hat and taking up the trolley once again.</p><p> </p><p>The noise inside the house was different from the usual pre-dinner uproar, this was sheer chaos. Not bothering to hang her coat and hat, Elsie headed straight to the hall where the staff and the family were up in arms over something.</p><p>An officer stood in the heart of the room holding a beet red and bawling Charlie, who was desperately reaching out for Thomas. Dropping her bag, she rushed to claim her boy from the officer, only to have him turn and avoid her reach.</p><p>“I’m sorry Mrs. Hughes, I have to take him with me.” The officer informed her.</p><p>“Like hell you will. She is his mother and you will turn him over at once!” Lord Grantham shouted over her before she could say a word.</p><p>“She is, in fact, not the boy’s mother.” The officer reached into his breast pocket and handed her a piece of paper.</p><p>“What’s this?” she asked, taking the paper from the officer and began scanning it with Mr. Crawley peering over her shoulder.</p><p>“Papers claiming you to be an unfit mother.”</p><p>“An unfit mother? Who called Mrs. Hughes an unfit mother?” Mr. Carson demanded to know.</p><p>“The boys father, Mr. Burns” Jaws dropped around the room.</p><p>“His fa– This is absolute madness. That man is no more the father than any of us are. Mrs. Hughes is his aunt by blood and the only competent adult relative that child has.” Mr. Crawley stepped in irately, yet somehow still the coolest head in the room.</p><p>“I am neither judge nor jury in this matter. I have orders to remove the child to safer hands and that is all I can do.”</p><p>“Well you can attest that the child is in no way endangered here.” Lord Grantham cut in once again.</p><p>“Come again, Lord Grantham? When I arrived at Downton this child was alone in the hall playing dangerously close to the fire with a wet nappy, which still needs to be changed mind you.” He said holding Charlie a little further from his person “And even if I did find him being well cared for, I still have to bring him back to his father.”</p><p>“But he’s not the father!” Lady Mary now piped up from behind her father. “How could he claim such a thing?”</p><p>“Mrs. Hughes shared a home with Mr. Burns for 5 months, he provided for them and” he looked uncomfortable now “premarital fornication occurred. It is, by definition, a common law marriage and Mr. Burns wants his child in recompense for being abandoned at the altar.”</p><p>Elsie blushed something fierce. She wanted nothing more than to hold her breath till she passed out once the officer mentioned her now regrettable night in Joe’s bed, if only to escape the piercing eyes of Charles now focused intently on her.</p><p>“I hate to do this Mrs. Hughes, I really do, but I have orders and right now, his end of the story holds up. You can take it up with the courts tomorrow morning if you must, but tonight he has to come with me.”</p><p>Elsie looked around the room, frantic for someone to come up with a reason for the officer to hand Charlie back to her. “I’m afraid he’s right, Mrs. Hughes.” Mr. Crawley spoke softly from behind her with a gentle hand on her shoulder “This is a letter with orders from the magistrate. If Sergeant Willis doesn’t take Charlie with him, you will be held for contempt of court and the rest of us for abetting kidnapping.”</p><p>“Can I at least change him before he leaves?” Sgt. Willis allowed her to step forward and stroke his little tuft of hair as he reached out desperate to wrap his little arms around her neck; he would surely hurt himself at the rate he was crying now.</p><p>“I’m sorry Mrs. Hughes, but I can’t let him go now that I have him. I really must be on my way now. I’ll see he gets changed at the station.”</p><p>The entire mob of them followed Sgt. Willis upstairs to the front door. Even Mrs. Patmore and Daisy were willing to let supper burn to witness Charlie being placed in the back of a police truck and be hauled away to Scotland.</p><p>When the truck finally drove out of sight, Mr. Carson shooed the rest of the staff back inside to tend to their duties leaving Elsie outside to fall apart in the hands of the family. Ultimately they trickled in as well, Lady Mary and Lady Edith being the first to abandon her to no one’s surprise. Soon after, Lady Grantham and Mrs. Crawley sent Lady Sybil, Mr. Crawley and Lord Grantham inside as well, claiming this was ‘mother’s territory’. Elsie was so distressed she barely registered that two Ladies had helped her inside and sat her on a red library couch and rang for Anna.</p><p>Back in her own room Anna tended to Elsie who was apparently as helpless as little Charlie. She needed help changing into her nightgown, getting into bed, and fetching her a basket and water when sick rose too high in her throat. She would never know how much the young girls heart broke for the older woman as she watched her fall asleep cradling a pillow as if she were willing it to magically turn into Charlie.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elsie barely gets on without Charlie, and the big day arrives.</p><p>Charlie 8 months, Elsie 4 months</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the three days leading up to her wedding, Elsie carried on with a heavy heart. Though Charlie was a tiny being who couldn’t talk, the house was oddly quieter and emptier without his shining face beaming back at her though out the day.</p><p>For the most part she locked herself away in her sitting room, writing out instructions and drawing out schedules for the days she and Charles would be wed and on their ‘honeymoon’; if one could constitute two days in their cottage a honeymoon. When she wasn’t dealing with the hordes of paperwork constantly piling up on her desk, she was busy sprucing up the little cottage that she and Charles would soon call their home.</p><p>Sadly, it is not the cottage with the pear and apple trees where she and Charles got themselves into this mess. There is no stone fence with a gate and the garden is not overgrown with poppies, but it is still a quaint little cottage with sturdy walls and a solid roof. It’s much closer to the abbey and was chosen personally by Lady Mary, which no doubt has Mr. Carson chuffed to bits, and she figures they can always fix up the garden to something they both like.</p><p>Inside she opens the windows and takes the rugs and the cushions out for a good beating. She sweeps and mops and dusts and cleans and even moves in some of the larger things from her room at the abbey; anything to keep her occupied because the moment she stops, she thinks of Charlie’s frightened face and she falls apart once again.</p><p>September 13, it is the eve of their wedding and she has managed successfully to avoid her beloved bridegroom and the questions he has following the visit from Sergeant Willis. Pushing away her unfinished supper, she knows that starting tomorrow she can no longer hide from him. Tomorrow she will get up, put on the new frock Beryl ordered for her and change her name to Mrs. Carson. They’ll chat with family and friends over their wedding breakfast then head back to their cottage where it will be him, her and a loaded conversation.</p><p>“Come in.” She picks up her tray when someone, probably Anna, knocks on her door to collect her dirty dinner tray. The door remains closed and she puts it back down to open the door. The door refuses to budge and the handle holds firm.</p><p>“It’s me. We need to talk” A deep, bassy voice announces from the other side. It seems they’ll be coming to terms earlier than she thought.</p><p>“Aye, that we do.” The door opens a crack, but he keeps himself hidden behind the wall.</p><p>“Is it mine?” his voice is changed, more emotional as if he needs to be reassured.</p><p>“Yes, it’s yours Charles. It was only one time and hands only. I still find it hard to believe Joe twisted our situation to mean that.” She blushed deeply at having to describe her intimate time with Joe. It never even occurred to her that he thought she would seek him out carrying another man’s child. “You must think me a trollop now.”</p><p>“No. I never could, not when I’m as guilty as you are.” <em>So he admits it. He <strong>is</strong> having an affair with Mrs. Grigg.</em></p><p>He sighs and there is silence for a moment. “Do you love me?”</p><p>“I think I do.” She hears him taking in a breath and holding it “I think I love you very much. I only wish we were marrying on our own terms and not Lord Grantham’s.”</p><p>“I always did want to marry you eventually. I wanted everything we’re going to have. A home, a garden, children. I spent years talking myself out of it after spending so many years chasing the role of butler… I guess this is God’s way of pushing us together.”</p><p>“But…” His confession leaves her dumbstruck and she slides down the wall to sit on the floor. Why would he want a life with her if he was besotted with Mrs. Grigg?</p><p>“But what, Elsie?” She hears him settling down on the floor as well. If they’re going to have this conversation, they might as well have the whole damn thing.</p><p>“Becky and I went shopping a few days ago following my appointment with Dr. Clarkson. I ended up buying a pram and needed help getting it back to the house. We got to talking on our way to Downton and the delivery man turned out to be a nice chap,” <em>Why</em> <em>was she dragging this out?</em> “but it seems that Mr. Grigg is not so keen on you anymore.”</p><p>She can hear him grunt and shuffle uncomfortably on the floor, but has yet to say a word, so she continues.</p><p>“Normally this wouldn’t bother me. We all have our falling outs with friends, and no one is liked by everyone,” she rambled on hoping his patience wouldn’t wear too thin “but he thinks you’re seeing his wife behind his back.”</p><p>She paused to take a deep breath and continued, not giving him a chance to interject. “One month ago I would have called him mad and defended you as the honorable man I knew you to be, only a few days before I got curious as to where you were disappearing to on your half days and I found a picture of a woman in your desk. I couldn’t help but draw a connection between the two and come up with an ill-favored conclusion.”</p><p>“You’re not wrong, Elsie” her heart sank in her chest like a lead balloon “not entirely at least. The picture in my desk is of Alice Grigg, Alice Neal when that photograph was taken. I took a trip to Thirsk last month and ran into Grigg. He told me Alice was dying and I just… had to see her I guess.”</p><p>“And are you fond of her?” she asked bracing herself for a brutally honest affirmation.</p><p>“I was, when I was a young man. To tell the truth, I felt she treated me badly, bad enough to send me all the way back here and close off my heart forever. Now I’m grateful she left me for Grigg.”</p><p>“So you never… you know, with Alice?”</p><p>“No, believe it or not but I was much too stuffy and proper to propose that before marriage… What?” he asks when he hears her chortling through the door.</p><p>“I’m just trying to image you more proper than you already are.” She responds, trying to settle herself enough to resume their conversation. “So, if you’re grateful she left you, does that mean I’m not a substitute for a life missed out on with Alice?”</p><p>“Sub – Absolutely not. Truth is, you’ll never be second best in my book. I am happy and tickled and bursting with pride that you would agree to be my wife… if you still wish to be my wife, that is.”</p><p>“Of course I –”</p><p>“Because I don’t want you agreeing if you feel I’ve trapped you into marriage. If you must withdraw, so be it.”</p><p>“I –”</p><p>“We’ll just tell one or two people and let the rest come out naturally.”</p><p>“Charles!” he finally quit his soliloquy “I don’t feel as if I’ve been trapped into marriage. To be honest, I was wondering if I had trapped you into marriage with this child.”</p><p>“No. As I said before, I’m just as guilty as you in this regard.” They both felt a weight being lifted from their chests finding they were on the same page after a month of wondering, “Do you still want to marry me, Mrs. Hughes?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t marry anyone else, Mr. Carson.”</p><p>They both laughed a bit as the mood lightened and her door creaked open a bit more. Charles’ hand was groping around the floor searching for hers. She obliged and enjoyed a quiet moment sitting hand in hand with the man she could officially call ‘her man’.</p><p>“There’s one more thing I want to discuss with you before tomorrow.” He said right as she was about to suggest they turn in for the night “When we get Charlie back, I want to adopt him properly.”</p><p>
  <em>For heavens sake, not this argument again! Joe had already put her through the ringer with this months ago.</em>
</p><p>She opened her mouth to argue, but his next sentence got her thinking twice “In the event that your results from Dr. Clarkson come back positive, I want to be able to raise both children together. I want to be a father to both, and I don’t want anyone challenging my authority as his father if the need arises. And I want you to formally adopt him too. I can’t risk anyone else taking him away saying we are not his parents.”</p><p>
  <em>Since when did Charles want to adopt Charlie? He rarely showed an interest in the child’s wellbeing, preferring to adhere to the age-old adage that children were meant to be seen, not heard. Charles was nothing like Joe, who wanted to change Charlies’ name to force control. Charles was suggesting this out of love, but still…</em>
</p><p>“I’m not sure we will ever get Charlie back.”</p><p>“We will. Thomas has already written asking his friend Aiden to look in on Charlie and Mr. Matthew is looking into the matter as we speak. He says no magistrate would dare keep a child away on such a baseless claim. I swear it to you, we will get him back.” He vows and tightens his grip on her hand.</p><p>“I’ll think about it” is the only response she can muster as she tries to keep more tears from falling at the thought of Charlie “I just want him home first.”</p><p>They sat a few moments longer with Charles lazily stroking the back of her hand till the low chime of a clock sounded 11.</p><p>“Right, well I best go lock up the house and get some rest. I have a big day tomorrow with a lovely lady.”</p><p>“Is that right?” she played along with his joke “I hope she knows what a lucky lady she is to have you all to herself.”</p><p>“If all things go as planned, I shall be the lucky one.” Her giggle coaxed a chuckle from him.</p><p>“Good night Mrs. Hughes. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Good night Charles.”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Elsie had 10 minutes to sleep until her alarm rang when Anna, Becky and Mrs. Patmore woke her.</p><p>“What’s happened? What’s the matter?” she asked rubbing the sand from her eyes as Becky jumped onto her bed.</p><p>“Nothing’s the matter!” Mrs. Patmore’s harsh voice cut across so early in the morning and handed her a steaming cup of tea with a few shortbreads.</p><p>“We’ve come to dress the bride.” Anna was as giddy as a child whose mother had agreed play dress up with her arms full of hair dressing and make up kits.</p><p>The four girls sat on her bed pouring over a book on hairstyles as raindrops tapped against the window.</p><p>“This one!” Becky exclaimed a little too loudly for six in the morning “You’ll look sooo much beautifuler like this.”</p><p>Anna turned the book around so she and Mrs. Patmore could have a better look at the picture, then her. “This would suite you.” She said showing Elsie the style in question. It was a rather elaborate chignon that hung just above the neck with a light amount of fringe dusting her forehead. “Alright then, that one it is.” Becky bounced up and down in her seat, happy that her suggestion was the winner.</p><p>“Now that we’ve got that settled,” Mrs. Patmore said taking the empty cup from Elsie “it’s time for you to get in the bath and get this day started.”</p><p>“I rather think I know when to wash myself at this age Mrs. Patmore.” She scoffed</p><p>“Well hurry it up then. I’ll not be the one to blame when a grumpy butler comes knocking heads about because his bride was late. Off with you now!”</p><p>“As you command” she agreed putting on her robe and gathered her toiletries. If Mrs. Patmore ever decided to leave the kitchen, she would do a fine job commanding his majesty’s armed forces.</p><p>Elsie scrubbed herself raw in the tub getting a good lather on every inch of skin. Her body might not win any awards tonight, but the very least she could be was clean for a man who admired cleanliness.</p><p>Back in her room Becky and Mrs. Patmore went through her wardrobe while Anna talked her into makeup for the first time. Not too much, just enough to brighten her eyes and the scantest amount of rouge to give her a healthy glow. She looked just like herself with a good night’s sleep and some sun.</p><p>“I’ve never seen this one before.” Mrs. Patmore said pulling a peach frock with a heart shaped neckline out of her closet.</p><p>“Oh, that’s been in there for ages.” A spider fell from it just to prove her point “I never liked it much, but I never could bring myself to donate it when the time came for some reason.”</p><p>“Put it on! I want to see.” Becky was ready to pounce as she thrust the dress against Elsie.</p><p>“Hold your horses Beck, I don’t even have my corset on yet.” Getting her into said corset had been a job for both Anna and Mrs. Patmore. At four months pregnant she was starting to show, and she knew Charles wouldn’t want her looking indecent on their wedding day.</p><p>The baby was probably nestled against her kidneys some twenty minutes later, but her stomach was completely flat, possibly even flatter than before she fell pregnant, and that’s all that mattered.</p><p>Reaching out for the peach dress, she might as well humor her sister before she left her alone in yet another house. Elsie didn’t have much in the way of suitable dresses anyhow, there was her usual black and navy frocks reserved for daily wear, a few skirts and blouses that were too casual for today and the lilac one she wore the day she ran from Joe with Charles – which she obviously wouldn’t wear today.</p><p>With a little help from Anna she pulled the peach frock over her head and turned around. “It is a bit dull, isn’t it?” Maybe a skirt and blouse that she prettied up with a nice broach would be the best option.</p><p>She began unbuttoning the dress when an idea hit Anna “Wait just a moment. I think I have something that might work.” And dashed off down the hall.</p><p>Anna returned a few moments later clutching an embroidered peach sash that was maybe a shade darker than the dress she wore. Anna had it perfectly tied it around her waist in seconds and turned to look in the mirror. Mrs. Patmore gasped looking at Elsie’s reflection. A simple sash and suddenly the dress was quite flattering on her, dare she say she even looked quite pretty now that she was all gussied up.</p><p>“It looks as if we’ve found your wedding dress Mrs. Hughes.” Anna beamed as Mrs. Patmore tried to calm an excited Becky for the umpteenth time this morning. <em>It’s going to be a long day for Mrs. Patmore if Becky doesn’t get tuckered out soon</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Fortunately, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle when Elsie and her girls left for the church; not that it really mattered much. Lord and Lady Grantham gifted her and Charles with use of the cars so they could arrive unmarred.</p><p>For the second time this year she waited in a small room next to the vestibule, pacing the floors and checking herself in the mirror while waiting for the vicar to begin the ceremony. Anna hadn’t come by to see if she was getting cold feet and Thomas wasn’t holding a smartly dressed Charlie, but Charles did arrange for another bouquet of flowers, consisting mainly of Yorkshire orchids, for her to carry.</p><p>Reverend Travis called for her and she stood alone in the nave. Looking at Charles’ back, she felt a little unsteady not having him by her side. A gesture from Reverend Travis and the organ started playing music. This was as far as she had gotten last time, where it had all gone wrong.</p><p>She took one step hesitantly, then another. Before she knew it, she was halfway down the aisle trying not to laugh at her sister, who was being held in place by Mrs. Patmore lest she fall into the aisle trying to get a better look.</p><p>Ascending the altar, she took her place by Charles’ side. They had stood side by side frequently in the past, a united front before the staff and the family, but there was an oddly reassuring quality to being in his presence this time. They would be there for each other. No matter what life threw at them, they would face it as one.</p><p>“You came.” Charles murmured somewhat surprisedly. He clearly expected her to do another runner.</p><p>“I did.” and turned her attention to the vicar as the ceremony began.</p><p> </p><p>The whole thing flew by with her only catching a few snippets here and there despite her efforts to focus on the words being spoken by the vicar. In accordance to god’s holy ordinance… in sickness and in health… the moments had flown by till Charles had taken her hand and slipped a golden band on her ring finger. “With this ring, I thee wed. with my body, I thee worship. All my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father and of the Sons and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”</p><p>They broke out into smiles as they were pronounced man and wife and turned to exit arm in arm beneath a shower of rice and bright, sunny skies. The sun had come out today.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had issues ending it here. I wanted to take it into the bedroom, but it was already a tad long for what I think I might write. Next chapter will be post-wedding smut from both POV's.<br/>That new peppermint candy Becky buys is none other than the original Life Savers candy, brand new at the time. Like most novelties I include, I have no idea if they were in the UK at the time and have not looked into their prevalence. It's just a fun tidbit for me, and I hope you as well.<br/>Did you catch the two lesser known (to me at least) good luck wedding superstitions?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Charlie 8 months, Elsie 4 months</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The breakfast certainly went well, don’t you think? Heaven knows how you pulled off something that grand in only a months’ time.” Charles and Elsie, now man and wife, walk back to their new cottage trying to find neutral topics of conversation, none of which stick.</p><p>“Yes, I believe it did. Just a bit of luck I suppose.” Charles replies when he realizes his wife is waiting for a reaction. Like her, his thoughts are consumed by thoughts of activities yet to come. It is rather silly, he thinks, that though it was a knobstick wedding, both parties involved are sexually inexperienced.</p><p>It has turned out to be a gorgeous afternoon, the kind children spend outside playing in the not too muddy grass.</p><p>“Here we are.” Suddenly they are at their doorstep and she has opened the door to their humble abode. He hangs their heavy coats from this morning on the pegs next to one of her lighter ones and hands her his bowler to put on the hat rack along with her hats. Taking a quick look around, he hasn’t had the time to see the cottage yet, he notices the hall boys didn’t think to unpack his belongings the way the maids did with <strike>Mrs. Hughes</strike> <strike>Carson</strike> Elsie’s. Glad to have some sense of direction, Elsie begins unboxing his things while Charles finds appropriate places for them.</p><p>When they finish, Elsie starts fixing supper in the kitchen while he moves to the parlor to read the newspaper.</p><p>Dinner is a rather unpleasant event. He remarks how funny it is that she has spent so much time in the kitchen talking with Mrs. Patmore, yet she hasn’t absorbed a drop of cookery from the woman. Elsie must still be focusing on their consummation as she doesn’t find his quip the least bit amusing.</p><p>They do the washing up together and he tries to put a shine on the dull flatware. He offers her a night cap when they are finished, which she accepts, both knowing a little alcohol does a lot to relax inhibitions.</p><p>They slowly find their words as the sherry eases their lips and before long, they are chatting about this and that in their usual banter.</p><p>"I think it's about time we go up." He says when Elsie let's out a mighty yawn.</p><p>Tension disrupts the familiar mood as the proverbial bell has struck 12.</p><p>"I believe you're right. You go on upstairs; I'll lock up down here." She tells him and listens to his heavy footsteps thump up the wooden steps and runs the water in the lavatory.</p><p>Elsie takes her time locking the front door, making sure the windows are latched tight and straightening a few odds and ends before turning out the gas lights and heading up herself.</p><p>She is greeted by Charles walking out of the bathroom with freshly washed hair and a towel around his bare neck.</p><p>"Er- you may use the lavatory now, if you wish." He clearly hadn't expected her to be upstairs yet as his shirt is mostly unbuttoned and she can see just a bit of silvery chest hair peeking out - a small preview of things to come.</p><p>She thanks him and slides past into the lavatory shutting the door tightly behind her.</p><p>Before anything else, Elsie folds Anna's peach sash neatly on the vanity and hangs her frock on the door hook usually reserved for dressing gowns. </p><p>Pulling at her laces, she watches as her mid-section expands from a petite woman's body to an old, pregnant lady's in seconds. It was nothing short of a miracle they managed to strap her in that tight. Blood rushes to her head and she braces herself on the vanity taking a few well-deserved deep breaths. When she no longer feels dizzy, she unclasps her stockings and corset, placing them atop the vanity as well. </p><p>Down to her under things, she washes the bit of makeup off in the sink and carefully removes the pins from her chignon. With her brush resting in her bedroom vanity drawer, Elsie uses her fingers to comb her hair into submission. </p><p>Pleased with her garbed appearance, she takes off her shift and drawers and stacks the dirty clothing on top of the now crowded vanity.</p><p>The lump is brazenly evident when she checks her reflection, sitting high in the fold of her left breast. It will be the second thing he notices about her body if her large belly doesn't send him running out of the room.</p><p><em>Here's wishing for the best,</em> she thinks to herself and reaches to the back of the bottom drawer to produce the tube of jelly she’s hidden in a toiletry bag. She’s used a substantial amount by herself in the short time she's had it, but her body has been absolutely on fire lately; hopefully that is normal for someone in her situation. Squeezing a liberal amount onto her fingers, she spreads a thick coat of the jelly inside her vagina and around her entrance before stowing it back in its hiding place. </p><p>In the bedroom, Charles sheds his clothing much in the same order as usual. First, he lays his jacket on the bed, his shoes are unlaced and placed aside once he has inserted shoe trees. His tie is smoothed and hung on the tie rack in his wardrobe, soon to be joined by his shirt and waist coat. Braces are folded/rolled as well as one can fold/roll a pair of braces. Trousers are folded along the crease and pulled through the bottom of the hanger and his jacket adorns the shoulders to make his suit a tidy package. It's almost as if nothing outside of the ordinary were happening tonight as he takes off his socks and unbuttons his long johns and tosses them into the hamper.</p><p>Sucking in his stomach he checks his physique in the mirror... still fat. He sighs and relaxes his muscles; it seems he didn't quite stick to his diet as well as he hoped he would. </p><p>Grabbing his comb, he tries to get his now dry hair to lie flat, but as usual it refuses to cooperate and wavy locks curl wherever they please.</p><p>Defeated, he refreshes his cologne with a fresh splash and sits on the bed waiting for his bride.</p><p>It is maybe 10 minutes he sits there, rehearsing scenarios and techniques learned from his book, when the lavatory door creaks open an inch. "I'm ready" hesitation evident in her voice.</p><p>He closes his eyes, takes one final steadying breath, attempts to straighten his non-exist waist coat, and stands. "You may come out now."</p><p>The door creaks all the way open and... Oh dear lord.</p><p>She is standing there, mere feet across the room, looking more beautiful and enticing than any portrait ever painted of Venus. Charles feels his jaw go slack and helplessly watches as she takes a few shy steps towards him.</p><p>Charles is standing ramrod straight with his… thing on full display making her blush. It looks a little funny just hanging there between his thighs, but she’ll not mention that.</p><p>Is it good or bad that Charles hasn’t said anything yet? He is standing there wide eyed with an expression she can’t quite read. At least he hasn’t outright rejected her. It crosses her mind that they are meeting much in the same way as Adam and Eve after that bite of apple.</p><p>“Do I meet your exacting standards, Mr. Carson?” she asks when she can no longer bear the discomfiture.</p><p>“More than.” His voice is soft as he snaps out of his trance “You far exceed expectations and are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.”</p><p>All his life Charles had been led to believe that pregnancy was unappealing and vulgar. The dowager had remained firmly indoors, refusing all visitors when she was with child. Lady Grantham, who was considerably more lax, chose not to leave the grounds and only received the closest family members when she was carrying her three girls. No one had ever told him a woman bearing children could be wonderfully sacred.</p><p>Elsie shivered a bit in the cool room and, like a gentleman, he instinctually steps forward to warm her. It is a foolish move on his part as he had no coat to offer her and wrapping her in his arms felt much too forward, so he stood there with his arms barely outstretched. Thankfully, she rescues him by stepping into his embrace and rests a hand on his chest to play with the few wiry hairs there.</p><p>“Would you like to sit on the bed?” he asks after a few moments. His blood is rushing south, and he doesn’t want to make a mess of this night before it begins. She nods and they move to the bed, sitting side by side with his hand resting along her back.</p><p>It is now that Charles notices the offending protrusion and moves to caress it when propriety stops him again. In another moment of bravery, Elsie takes his hand and guides it to cup her breast.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” he asks rubbing his thumb so lightly over it she can barely feel it.</p><p>“It’s sensitive. Both my breasts are. Dr. Clarkson says it’s the baby.” He nods his understanding and continues gently squeezing and pinching the soft, squishy bags and taut nipples.</p><p>Elsie reaches up with one hand and caresses his cheek, fingers grazing the harsh stubble that has grown in since this morning and draws his lips in for a tender kiss. As their lips grow more heated her hand moves to stroke his hair and slowly slips down to his shoulder, his arm, his thigh.</p><p>They break apart when she stops there, inches away from where she wants to touch him, where he wants her to touch him. “It’s okay” he reassures her and kisses her brow.</p><p>She delicately wraps a petit hand around his member and strokes his length. It is warmer than she imagined, almost hot with bulging veins running all over the velvety soft skin. When his hand leaves her breast to join hers, she blushes and tries to pull her hand away; she’s mucked the whole thing up already.</p><p>“You can grasp it a bit harder, it’s not as sensitive as balls.” And with a firm grasp shows her how to twist along the length then circle the head with her thumb.</p><p>He grunts and closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensations she is ministering and trying to ignore how much larger he looks in her petit hand.</p><p>“Elsie… Elsie…” She is using both hands now and it is driving him absolutely wild, more so than when it is him alone, and if this weren’t an important night for them, he’d let her finish him off. “Elsie.” He stops her hands and takes a steadying breath “I don’t want this night to end just yet.”</p><p>She immediately folds both hands in her lap and scoots away “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”</p><p>“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You are absolutely incredible, too incredible actually.” <em>She is so adorable when she bites her lip to hide her smile</em></p><p>Pulling her closer so she is almost in his lap, he kisses her again and slides his hand up her thigh to her center. He is happy to find she is already wet for him and this evening won’t include the same issues of their first coupling. <em>Getting those books may not have been ideal, but he’d seriously consider going back if it meant Elsie benefitted from it,</em> he thinks as he finds and plays with the fabled epicenter of her pleasure.</p><p>She is clenching her legs around his hand, opening them to ask for more and closing them to get more pressure without having to ask for it. It isn’t till he inserts a thick finger and strokes her insides that she claws at his chest and whines for more. <em>Is every man born knowing how to do this or is there a secret manual the men are issued before they take a wife?</em></p><p>Her whining grows louder when he removes her finger and is quickly silenced when he starts rearranging them on the bed. Even though it is not her first time and she has plenty of the jelly to smooth things along, she is frightened it might still hurt – and it must be evident on her face.</p><p>“Things will be better this time, I promise.” He assures her again with another kiss and pulls her to the middle of the bed.</p><p>There are a few awkward moments where she lays there, legs spread, while he adjusts their bodies trying to find the best way for them to join. Their combined bellies won’t allow him to lay atop her per customary relations. Eventually Charles decides the best position is Elsie laying on her back with a pillow beneath her butt and him upright on his spread knees. Aligned with her entrance he looks to her for permission, one final chance to bow out before they consummate their union and are bound to each other for eternity.</p><p>Instead of a nod or a verbal agreement, Elsie moves her bottom closer so they briefly meet skin to skin. Taking hold of her knees, he is inside her in one effortless thrust. <em>God this is heaven </em>he thinks as his nails dig into her skin trying not to cum. When he has control over his body once again, he starts to move.</p><p>Thrust. Things are already better this go-around. Thrust. Elsie doesn’t seem to be enjoying it anymore. Thrust harder. She gasps and her breasts bounce enticingly. Thrust. It happens again.</p><p>Their slow start picks up pace and his eyes are locked on her chest as he slowly pounds her up the bed then pulls her back to him. A quick jolt of energy and a fullness is building within as he slides in and out of her, stretching her in ways that are not painful, but like he was always meant to be there to open her up. She is grabbing onto the sheets and the pillow, anything to stabilize this wild ride she wasn’t prepared for, but everything moves with her. What stuns her is his face. He is flushed and panting, but with a look of sheer bliss consuming him as he lifts her leg a little higher to kiss her ankle.</p><p>“Fuck.” Charles shudders as his balls tighten and he cums inside her. His whole body is practically vibrating from the intensity of his release as he finds his way next to her where he closes his eyes. When he opens them moments later, Elsie is still breathing hard and furiously rubbing herself down there building to her climax. She moans spasmodically when she finally cums, bucking her hips high in the air. God how he wishes he could witness this with her splayed out before him.</p><p>Drowsy as he is, they shuffle their way beneath the covers and Charles pulls her close so they rest snugly against each other on the lone remaining pillow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you.” He murmurs almost inaudibly. “Hush now, get some sleep.” The last thing he is aware of is Elsie fingering his chest hair before he drifts off to sleep.</p><p>There are bright red scratch marks across his chest from earlier making a stark contrast from the pale flesh that hasn’t seen sunlight in years. It’ll be hard to see him as the stern butler now that she has seen him at his most vulnerable. Even asleep and painted by the moonlight his features are those of a stoic leader, born and raised to take up the mantle by day and sharing his tenderness with very few. She snuggles in closer, contented to know she is now one of his few, indeed his only and falls into a dreamless sleep.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Here we are guys, nearly 7,000 words all about Chelsie and what they did on their honeymoon. For better or worse, here it goes</p><p>Charlie 8 months, Elsie 4 months</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The birds are chirping happily when Elsie wakes and stretches the next morning. There is a tightness between her thighs that is slightly familiar, like when she had spent all afternoon atop a horse working the farm as a young girl. Sadly, the bed is cold and empty next to her even though it is still early. She had looked forward to enjoying a lie in with Charles on their honeymoon.</p><p>The cool air hits her body when she throws back the sheets and dons her dressing gown and slippers. The bed sheet is no longer taut and the rest of the coverings are twisted – she’ll have to fix the bed later this afternoon.</p><p>Downstairs she finds her husband in the kitchen fully dressed and sipping a cup of coffee.</p><p>“Good morning, handsome.” She greets him with a kiss to his temple “Is my man hungry this morning?” and pours herself a cup of coffee while eagerly waiting for him to reply that he is famished from their night of lovemaking. Despite her previous reservations about their life together, a happy afterglow morning where she dutifully cares for her strapping man is a scene she has played through her mind several times.</p><p>“Good morning Elsie.” He replies coolly and frowns when he looks away from his paper “Why aren’t you dressed? Service is in an hour.”</p><p>“I thought we could stay in today.” she says now uneasily “It’s not often we get an entire day off. Besides, it’s our honeymoon.”</p><p>“It is, but we are still in the community and if we don’t show for service, people might think we were up to something… impure.” Charles returns to his paper as if the matter has been settled.</p><p>“We are married now, it’s hardly impure. That would be our business anyway.”</p><p>“Still, I’d like to remain a good example for the staff and the family. Nothing should change just because we are married.”</p><p>“Fine!” Elsie sets her barely drunk coffee down on the counter more forcefully than intended and storms upstairs before she says something she’ll regret. Perhaps today’s sermon will be a reminder why thou shalt not kill.</p><p>Getting back into her corset took longer than expected and though he was unhappy with the way her belly protruded, Charles rushed them down the road to the church where they arrived in time for the pastors greeting. Afterwards they linger for a chat with old Mr. Drewe with Charles ineffectively attempting to block her belly from view.</p><p>“The nerve of his family, not bothering to return now that Mrs. Drewe has passed. Our children will be brought up remembering to honor their father and mother to the fullest of the commandment.” Charles spouts off as they walk back to their little cottage. Elsie makes a few noises of agreement and concentrates on getting home as she matches his stride. As much as she wants to prepare a proper Sunday roast for him, it very well may have to be sandwiches if her feet do not stop hurting.</p><p>Once inside their home Elsie hands her hat and coat to Charles and barely makes it to the sofa. She watches her husband disappear upstairs only to return several minutes later sporting a pair of faded trousers and an old white shirt of which he has rolled up the sleeves.</p><p>“I’m out to the garden to chop firewood… Elsie, are you well?” Charles asks finally recognizing how exhausted she is.</p><p>“Just a little weary, I’ll be right as rain in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Why on earth are you chopping firewood for? You’re not a hall boy anymore and we could easily order some coal to be delivered.”</p><p>“The previous tenants left a shed full of logs we can make use of and it’s certainly dry enough that the longer burn will be helpful once the baby is here.”</p><p>It’s strange hearing him talk about their baby; they’ve not talked about it once since his not-a-heart-attack.</p><p>“Well get on with you then, I’ll start the roast soon enough.”</p><p>“If you’re sure?”</p><p>“I’m positive. Now watch yourself outside and don’t push yourself too hard. I don’t need you ending up in hospital before supper.” She bends over to untie her shoes to hide the silly grin on her face – for all his pomp and preoccupation with social perception, he does care for the wellbeing of her and the baby. When she cannot reach the laces Charles quietly kneels and tends to her, even going as far as to prop her feet upon the ottoman and stow her shoes safely out of the way where neither of them will trip.</p><p>There is a moment of hesitation when he rises where she thinks he will grace her with a peck on the cheek, but instead he quietly pardons himself to the garden.</p><p>Taking a deep breath Elsie slowly exhales, simply enjoying the solitary silence she hasn’t had in months, releasing the tension in her shoulders and <em>OUCH</em> stretching out her toes. Looking down at her feet she is horrified at the sight. The light swelling in her ankles that Doctor Clarkson had warned her about last week have ballooned into, well, balloons. Not only is her ankle bone no longer visible, there are lines from the inside of her shoe indented into her skin from having been confined to such a tight space.</p><p>Thirty minutes pass by and her feet are no better. <em>Best just push yourself off the sofa and into the kitchen old girl. You have a hardworking husband to prepare a hearty meal for.</em></p><p>Beef roast in the oven, potatoes for mash boiling away, cauliflower and brussels sprouts are on the stove as well and she even has the batter ready for the Yorkshire pudding. Happy as she checks tasks off her mental list, it will be a fine reward for Charles when he comes in tired and hungry. She peers out the kitchen window and watches Charles wipe the sweat from his brow, push up his sleeves, reset the wedge, draw back the sledge and bring it down splitting the log in three fell swings. She keeps taking glances while she cleans the mess she’s made in the kitchen, unable to completely tear her eyes away from her man as he unbuttons the top of his shirt a little more exposing the rippling muscles glistening with sweat. With not much in the kitchen needing her immediate attention, Elsie retreats to the sofa and closes her eyes, listening to the soft grunts of Charles’ labor.</p><p> </p><p>“Elsie.” Charles shakes her awake and the smell of smoke immediately hits her.</p><p>“The roast!” She exclaims scrambling off the sofa as best she can.</p><p>“I already removed it from the oven. It doesn’t look as if it caught much.” <em>Thank the lord for that.</em> Relieved, Elsie shuffles over to the kitchen to check on things anyway. There is still the veg to check on and the Yorkshire pudding to deal with.</p><p>The roast looks pretty enough when she removes it from the pan, only the very tips of the roast are charred. Pouring the batter in she bungs the whole thing into the oven and sets the table.</p><p>“How much longer?” Charles asks now in fresh clothing and redoing the table settings.</p><p>“Five, maybe ten minutes. Are you hungry?”</p><p>“Starving.” She notices he is rubbing his bicep and arches a questioning eyebrow “Just a little sore” he says, stretching his aching muscles.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have tired yourself so.”</p><p>“It’s only temporary. Besides, if I don’t do it, how will Charlie know how to split logs when he’s old enough.”</p><p>She goes silent for a moment, wanting her baby boy in the cottage with them. “I hardly think we will still be splitting logs when he grows into a young man. Before you know it we will have some sort of electric heaters warming our homes.”</p><p>“An electric heater?!” he repeats incredulously “Why not just turn the whole house into an electric chair and have it done with.”</p><p>Laughing, Elsie opens the oven door. “Puddings done. Now sit down and I’ll cut you a nice slice of roast.”</p><p> </p><p>Dinner progresses much in the same way as the previous night with Charles grumbling about the quality of her cooking despite eating healthy portions – no doubt his afternoon of chopping firewood has helped her tonight. They wash the dishes together and Charles unsuccessfully tries to brighten the finish on the forks and knives.</p><p>In their sitting room Charles reads out the news while Elsie starts knitting a pair of yellow booties for the baby. He agrees to paint the nursery yellow as it will be the baby’s color, but is adamant Charlie gets a more masculine color. After much bickering they settle on sea green for the room, much prettier than Charles’ proposed myrtle.</p><p>The cottage chills as the evening progresses and up at the house it is time for the servant’s final meal before dinner service gets into full swing. Elsie prepares a fruit and cheese board while Charles gets a fire going and decants a strong port to round off the night. Settling in with their wine and cheese, the topic changes to baby names.</p><p>“You gave Charlie a sobriquet for his legal name. You clearly can’t be trusted to name our child.”</p><p>“And what is so wrong about bynames?” Elsie asks setting her port down for some blue cheese and plum.</p><p>“Exactly that. They are bynames, not Christian names.” Charles rebukes critically.</p><p>“I suppose you’ll want something more traditional, like Mary or Robert or George after the King.”</p><p>“Frankly I was thinking more along the lines of Elspeth or Elsa, but all three of those names are fine by me.”</p><p>“I am <strong>not</strong> naming my child after the family nor the royal family. And think of how silly we would sound when we are introduced to others. Hello, I’d like you to meet Charles and Elsie Carson and their children Charlie and Elspeth. We would sound utterly redundant.”</p><p>“I don’t see what’s wrong with showing a little gratitude to the family every now and then. This is my child too and you started with the naming after each other.”</p><p>“We give the family our mornings, noons and nights. Our children will be our own.” Elsie says matter-of-factly listening to her husband blow air through his nose angrily.</p><p>“Rebecca.” Charles says, obviously trying to get under her skin.</p><p>“Joe.” Elsie shoots back. Charles raises a bushy eyebrow in her direction. “I’m only joking. I’d like to leave that name far behind me thank you very much.”</p><p> </p><p>They continue throwing names back and forth, each finding a flaw with what the other has posed, until they are yawning and the clock reminds them of the late hour.</p><p>“You go up, I’ll close the house.” Charles says throwing ash into the fireplace. Elsie agrees and heads upstairs to prepare for bed.</p><p>Charles doesn’t take his time locking up the way she did last night and he joins her in the bedroom while she is brushing her hair at her vanity. In the mirror she can see that he is standing there with his collar open and tie undone. It dawns on them that they will be undressing in front of each other for the first time. Charles clears his throat and begins his nighttime regimen as casually as possible, brushing off his shoes before he puts them away for the night. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Elsie sneaking glances at him while she plaits her hair. Shrugging off his braces, his fingers clumsily fail at unbuttoning his shirt when his wife stands to unbutton her dress. They are no longer sneaking glances at each other but watching intensely through the mirror as he pulls off his shirt and her dress puddles to the floor. Elsie can feel her face flushing as her skirt joins her dress on the floor and frees her stockings from her garter to slowly slide down her thighs. Charles unbuttons his braces and blindly stows them away with his shirt, amazed as deft fingers quickly loosen the corset laces behind her back and unclasp the busk to expose her unrestrained figure. They are running low on clothing when Charles’ hands move to the top button of his trousers and hers to the hemline of her chemise. His arousal is apparent through his underwear and Elsie instinctually covers her breasts with one arm while gathering her discarded clothing with the other and tosses the dirty things into the hamper. Turning, she realizes Charles’ eyes have followed her and feels more exposed with the mirror no longer a barrier between them. He is halfway through unbuttoning his long johns revealing his bare chest to her. Down to her last garment she unties her drawers and slides them down her legs as he steps out of his. Being closer to the hamper, she takes his dirty underwear and, if she is not mistaken, his manhood twitches.</p><p>Moving to their individual wardrobes, Charles dons a pair of faded red and gray pajamas and she hastily throws on a worn ivory nightgown before scurrying off to the lavatory. The jelly is still safely hidden in the bottom drawer and she once again coats her insides with the slippery substance preparing herself for another night of “wifely duties”.</p><p> </p><p>Charles is already beneath the covers with his eyes fixated on a book. Elsie sidles in next to him</p><p>“What are you reading?” she asks as she scoots closer to peek over his shoulder.</p><p>“Twain. A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.” He responds disdainfully.</p><p>“My English husband reading an American novel. I never thought I’d see the day.”</p><p>“Her Ladyship recommended him when I was last in the library searching for something new. The title led me to believe that one American had his head on straight, but this entire book seems to be nothing more than an absurd notion wrapped around an anti-monarchist plot. I’m honestly surprised His Lordship allows such drivel to grace his shelves.”</p><p>“One can hardly blame them for not loving the monarchy. We had a bit of a spat with them one hundred and some odd years ago if you’ll remember.”</p><p>“A mistake on their part.”</p><p>Elsie chuckles at his typical reaction and reaches for his forearm. “Why don’t you put your book down and we’ll see if we can find something else that might interest you.”</p><p>Charles stiffens at her touch and stares harder at the text in front of him. “Do you think that’s proper? On a Sunday?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, is it?” It’s an uncomfortable topic to discuss aloud, especially with a man, but she’s curious to uncover what cockamamy reason her husband has come up with.</p><p>“Well the bible does say we should keep the sabbath holy.”</p><p>“It also says we should be fruitful and multiply.”</p><p>“Task accomplished - one could call anything more to be fruitless.”</p><p><em>Fruitless. So that’s what their intimacy adds up to in his eyes.</em> Elsie removes her hand and turns back to her side of the bed “You’re right. Good night Charles.” and forbids the tears in her eyes from running down her cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>11:58 PM. Did he really just cock things up this badly? On their second night?? Unable to sleep, Charles scrubs his hands over his face reflecting on what transpired tonight. He was able, his wife was willing, and he turned her away because he didn’t know how to handle affection after the consummation. He even called their union fruitless!</p><p>11:59 PM Charles is staring down his bedside clock counting the seconds as they pass.</p><p>12:00 AM “Elsie.” He whispers, but she doesn’t respond. It’s no wonder that she didn’t stay awake considering the way he acted.</p><p>Carefully sliding out of bed, he grabbed the jar of pomade and crept into the bathroom to sort out his semi. He noted it wasn’t as hard as it had been last night, but it was more than serviceable for what needed to happen. Dropping his pajama trousers and pulling off a few sheets of bog roll, Charles slathered a healthy amount of pomade all over his cock and balls and got to work.</p><p>Watching Elsie divest herself had been more enticing than he ever imagined, and he had imagined it quite often. Cupping his balls while he strokes his shaft his mind keeps replaying Elsie stripping away the layers, each one exposing a little bit more of her creamy flesh, till nothing remained. What finished him was the nightgown. The light behind her had shone through the threadbare fabric shadowing every single one of her curves and tiny dark circles poked through the front marking her teats. One rope weakly shoots from the top onto his hand and a second surfaces to sit on the head.</p><p>Once clean, Charles takes a few minutes to sit and compare his love life to his book. The characters are so in tune with each other, on the same page if you will. The want the same things at the same times and have no trouble telling the other what they want. Perhaps that is what he and Elsie need, time to clarify what they really want from their love life. It shouldn’t be that difficult, after all they’ve already had the delicate conversation about their marriage just two days ago, he’ll just need to find the right words before tomorrow night.</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Elsie woke early the next morning feeling less than rested. Still miffed and a bit strung out from last night's disagreement, her rest had been fitful waking almost every hour. Charles, she noted, was still asleep, having slept through most of the night. At one time though she woke to hear him grunting in the lavatory and made a mental note to purchase some castor oil in the future.</p><p>The stirring between her legs hadn’t faded overnight the way it usually did. Still too tired to take her business elsewhere and properly deal with it, she opted for quietly stroking her slit and clenching her legs around her fist to alleviate some of the pressure. It wasn’t till Charles turned over and draped an arm over her middle that she stopped.</p><p>“Good morning darling. Did you sleep well last night?”</p><p><em>Darling? Is that what he is going to call me?</em> “I did” she lied “And yourself”</p><p>“Mmmm. Very well indeed.”</p><p>Hope pooled between her legs as his hand leisurely travelled upwards to play with the small bit of decorative fabric just below her breast.</p><p>“Elsie?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I want to apologize for the way I acted last night. It was Sunday and I was much too harsh in my words. Can you please forgive me for my atrocious behavior?” <em>Well, that’s sort of the truth</em>, he thinks.</p><p>“Only if you’ll forgive me for pushing too hard.” Elsie says taking his hand</p><p>“You’ve done nothing of the sort.” His fingers now play higher up on the lace, inching towards her breast till she stops it “Alright fine. I’ll forgive you for being a married woman if you forgive me for being a curmudgeon.”</p><p>Elsie turns over and kisses him soundly on the lips, delighting as he cups her bum for a nice squeeze.</p><p>“Wait, where are you going?” He asks dumbfoundedly when she slides out of the bed.</p><p>“I just need to use the loo for a moment.”</p><p>Once the door is closed, Elsie digs out the jelly as quickly as she can without making too much noise. She flushes the toilet and runs the tap for a moment to keep up the ruse before returning to bed and cuddling up to Charles. More kissing ensues and soon enough he is lifting the hem of her nightgown and rubbing along her center. Elsie reciprocates by ridding him of his pajama top and pulling his soft member through the fly.</p><p>Several minutes of stroking later her frustration is growing. Surely it didn’t take this long the first time and he didn’t need persuading on their wedding night; she must be doing something wrong. Gripping him tighter she tugs faster until Charles yelps in pain.</p><p>“Let me.” He tries. Taking himself in hand, Charles pushes asides the straps of Elsie’s nightgown uncovering her cleavage and strokes himself feverishly. “Come on, come on.” Charles mutters to himself as he tries to achieve a useful erection. Ridding her of the nightgown altogether, he rubs the head along her slit and even tries entering her when he thinks he is just stiff enough to make things work.</p><p>“Never mind Charles.” Elsie scoots out from under him and grabs her dressing gown and slippers when he limply pulls away.</p><p>“Well maybe I can just -”</p><p>“It’s fine.” She cuts him off before he can suggest other things that have been on his mind “It’s time I get up anyway. There’s breakfast to make before I see Doctor Clarkson and we have everything for a fry-up.”</p><p>Enraged by his body’s inability to cooperate when he needs it most, Charles grabs the pillows and hurls them across the room as hard as he possibly can. The second pillow grazes the top of Elsie’s vanity and sends the items flying to the ground.</p><p>“Nice job you bloody twat.” He grumbles as he starts picking up the fallen articles and places them back on the tiny table trying to remember where they belong. Her hairbrush has a distinct smell to it that he recognizes but can’t quite place. It’s not the soap she uses, he’d recognize that scent anywhere, but whatever it is sends blood to his cock so it lays there thickly between his legs. “A bloody damp squib you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know why you felt the need to come Charles. I’m plenty capable of handling this by myself. I did do it by myself the first two times you know.”</p><p>“And you did a marvelous job at it darling,” <em>There he goes calling her darling again like she’s Lady bloody Grantham</em> “but we are married now and this affects me as much as you.” <em>Yes, Charles will be the one suffering to an early end if I have cancer. Best leave the argument here before we give the whole office something to gossip about.</em></p><p>They sit quietly in the surgery waiting for Dr. Clarkson to return with her results. Charles reaches over once to grip her hand to show his support.</p><p>“Good morning Mr. and <em>Mrs</em>. Carson.” Dr. Clarkson sits behind his desk with a cup of coffee in one hand and flips through her file with the other. The man is much too jovial for the morning as they exchange pleasantries, accept congratulations on their nuptials and other unimportant pleasantries.</p><p>“I suppose you’ll be wanting to hear your results now?”</p><p>“Very much so.” In fact, she’s elated Dr. Clarkson has finally cut the chit-chat and gotten to the core of their visit.</p><p>“Right.” Dr Clarkson peers over the papers at them before breaking out into a grin “You do not have cancer Mrs. Carson!” She and Charles both let out a collective breath and he tightens his hold on her hand, looking at her through misty eyes as Dr. Clarkson continues on about his plan to excise her benign tumor and the brief recovery period which shouldn’t have any significant effect on her work schedule.</p><p>“I notice you are still wearing a corset Mrs. Carson.” Dr. Clarkson inquires when they have no more questions regarding her tumor.</p><p>“Of course she is” Charles replies affronted “My wife is a respectable woman.”</p><p>“And she is also a pregnant one Mr. Carson.” he replies making Charles blush at the word being spoken aloud. “Should I take this to mean that the swelling in your ankles has gone down?”</p><p>“Erm, well, not exactly.” she mumbles</p><p>“Why don’t I take another look at what’s going on… for baby’s sake.” “Good lord!” he exclaims when he pulls off her shoes and finds them in a far worse condition compared to last week.</p><p>“I don’t see what the fuss is about a bit of swelling or why it means I shouldn’t wear a corset.” she says before he can admonish her in front of her husband.</p><p>“The fuss is it is a sign of preeclampsia and it can result in the death of you and your baby Mrs. Carson. I beg of you, stay off your feet and throw the corset into the fire if you must or I will recommend you to the maternity hospital in Leeds.”</p><p>Dr. Clarkson’s plea struck a chord with Charles who immediately stepped in “That won’t be necessary. What else must we do to keep Elsie and the baby safe?”</p><p>“Plenty of bed rest for one thing, I want Mrs. Carson off her feet more than she’s on them.” Doctor Clarkson’s full attention was to Charles now as he spouted off restrictions and requirements for her to follow. “It’ll be hard given your line of work, but I trust the two of you to figure something out with the family before Mrs. Carson takes maternity leave.” Charles nodded, taking mental notes along the way “I also recommend she takes an aspirin each morning to reduce the potential effects of eclampsia.”</p><p>“Sitting and a Beecham’s, easy enough instructions to follow.”</p><p>“There is one more thing we should discuss. I don’t want to alarm either of you nor do you have to make a decision now, but you may want to consider cesarean section birth”</p><p>Elsie’s ears perked up at the mention of unlabored birth.</p><p>“A suzharian section birth?” Charles repeated the foreign word quizzically.</p><p>“Suh·seh·ree·uhn” Dr. Clarkson corrected “It is a procedure where a surgeon cuts the baby out of the mother before vaginal delivery occurs.”</p><p>Charles felt his face flush fiercely at the term, but pressed on nonetheless “And you would recommend doing that to Elsie?”</p><p>“Me? Oh heavens no. I would send her to a surgeon in York where they specialize in those sorts of surgeries. They can be very risky when done improperly, but it may be the safest option going forward.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get you? Tea?” he asked wringing his hands.</p><p>“For the last time, no. I’m perfectly fine Charles.”</p><p>“Right, well I’ll just be outside chopping more firewood then. The window is open so just call if you need anything.”</p><p>Flopping back into the fluffy pillows Elsie finally had a moments rest. Charles has been driving her mad since they left Dr Clarkson, demanding she let him carry her home. His heart couldn’t handle it (like she had warned him) and they ended up compromising for a leisurely stroll. Then, when they were finally home, he ordered her out of the corset and into a nightgown (with no help from him). They should be in bed celebrating the fact that she would live the way man and wife do, instead Charles was back to playing the butler and doting on her as if she were another member of the upper class. At the very least she wanted him to stay and cuddle in bed for a bit.</p><p> </p><p>She could hear him knocking things about in the kitchen and after several minutes of listening to the infernal racket, she decided to go down and see what he was up to. Elsie watched him for several minutes, picking up whatever odds and ends were withing reach, wiping them down with a towel and putting it away in a different corner only to repeat the process again. One didn’t have to know Charles Carson to deduce he was a man ready to crack.</p><p>“What’s wrong Charles?” She asked from the doorway.</p><p>“N-nothing.” He replied picking up the tin of tea leaves he dropped and making for the dustpan.</p><p>Elsie watched him sweep the leaves from the floor and throw them in the bin. Charles was so distressed he was practically vibrating with nerves.</p><p>“I have some good scotch set aside in my trunk for days like these. Why don’t you fetch it and pour us a dram?”</p><p>Charles acquiesced and soon they were cuddled up on the sofa together sipping their drinks.</p><p>“This is dangerously smooth to drink on bad days.” He commented as he swirled the amber liquid around his glass.</p><p>“Bad scotch won’t fix a melancholy mood, now tell me what’s got you all hot and bothered.”</p><p>He paused “You’ll think I’m stupid.”</p><p>“I’d never think anything of the sort.” She said pulling him closer so his head rested on her breast. “You’re my husband and nothing will change that.”</p><p>“That’s the point.” Elsie pulled away to look at him. Surely he wasn’t having second thoughts already after all his eagerness to get her down the aisle. “I’m your husband because I’ve put you in this predicament. I’ve not given you time to show you I’m not fit to be a husband or a father. I cannot please you in our bed and though you haven’t said it I know you worry about my ability to be a good role model for Charlie. I want to be all these things for you and our children, but I was raised by a cold butler who never saw me as more than a protégé. Now I’ve stuck the only woman I’ve truly cared about with a fat, useless, pitiful old man whose only family has doubled as employers.”</p><p>“Charles you are none of those things and you have family now in me and Charlie and our baby. And yes, I worry about your parenting skills – I worry about my own.”</p><p>“You do?”</p><p>“All the time. We have two little beings depending on us for their every need, and how we raise them will determine their futures. I worried when I was unable to feed Charlie the day I took him away from Lytham St Annes and I feel unfit to mother our own child now that Joe has taken Charlie from me.”</p><p>“Us.” He corrected</p><p>“Us.” She agreed and wiped the tears forming at her eyes “I think we will always have doubts and worries, even when they are grown with children of their own. There’s only one thing that makes all the difference now.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I picked you to do this all with me and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”</p><p>They stayed there on the sofa for a few moments, listening to time pass by as the clock ticked. Charles rubbing little circles on the back of her hand and Elsie stroking the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Just silently offering each other little reassurances till Elsie stood and offered him her hand.</p><p>"Now come on upstairs with me."</p><p>"I already put you to bed once, remember?"</p><p>"Yes, but this time I want to stay with me and act like a husband"</p><p>Charles stopped midrise with a grave seriousness to his voice "Do you think it's wise after Doctor Clarkson's warned us this afternoon?"</p><p>"Not that, Charles, I just want you to relax with me for a bit."</p><p>“Ahhh…” she says as she stretches out on the bed once again “It’s nice to have a lazy afternoon in bed without being sick, isn’t it?” Turning to look at him, he is not laid out the way she is. Instead he is sitting upright against the headboard with his legs stretched out before him and his shod feet hanging off the edge. “You can’t possibly be relaxed like that. Why don’t you take off your shoes and join me properly?”  </p><p>“And you won’t think me too forward?”</p><p><em>Too forward? Heavens, Charles must be laced tighter than a pregnant whore’s corset.</em> “I don’t think a man can be too forward in his own home, in his own bed, with his wife.”<em> Charles may not act like other men who demand unsavory things from their wife in the bedroom, but is it really that difficult to expect a little affection?</em></p><p>Cautiously, Charles unlaced his shoes and fitted them with the shoe trees. After a moment of hesitation, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and draped it over her vanity chair then, to her amazement, he undid his tie and laid it atop his waistcoat as well.</p><p>By the time he was back on the bed with her, the top button of his shirt was undone and he had the cutest look of surprise when she snuggled up next to him before pulling her closer.</p><p>Some of the greatest pleasures in life are often the simplest. The quiet hours spent together, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat as he gently stroked the swell of her belly were irreplaceable in her mind.</p><p>“Elsie.”</p><p>“Hmm?” Elsie slipped her fingers beneath the buttons of his shirt and strokes the bare flesh beneath.</p><p>“How would you feel about taking a sabbatical?”</p><p>Elsie raises her head in confusion. “A sabbatical?</p><p>“Just until the baby comes and we get everything settled. You don’t even have to start it right away. You can create a proper routine for Anna and Gwen to follow while you are home, and I can escort you up every now and then to check on things. It will give me peace of mind about the baby and provide you with plenty of time to rest and gather your strength. At least think about it, for me?” he adds when she shoots him a questioning look.</p><p>“All right, I’ll <em>think</em> about it… I could do with a bit of persuading perhaps.”</p><p>“Persuading? How so? Oh!” And bends down to kiss her already pursed lips. And a second time. Lingers on the third kiss. On the fourth his hand strays to her bottom.</p><p>Elsie skillfully unbuttons his shirt, tugging the ends out from his trousers before venturing lower – she wants proof before she heads to the loo for more jelly.</p><p>Charles moans into her mouth when she palms the front of his trousers, a very good sign indeed. He is already thick beneath his trousers when she undoes his zip and begins stroking him to life… only after several minutes he is much the same.</p><p>Sensing Elsie’s frustration with his lack of arousal, he takes her by the wrist before she can try and rip it clean off him again.</p><p>“Wait.” He says tugging he back onto the bed. “Sometimes a man…” he sighs his frustration, finding the appropriate words to explain what is going on. “As men age, it can take them longer to… recover. From relations.”</p><p>“I understand.” She replies automatically, but he doesn’t really think she does.</p><p>“Wait.” Charles pulls her back onto the bed again. “This doesn’t mean I don’t want to make love to you. Let me...” but he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before she’s on her feet and finally pulling out of his grasp.</p><p>“I said I understand, Charles. It’s about time I start readying supper anyway.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whew. I know I keep apologizing for the increasingly longer gaps between chapters, but I have really been busy (and a little unmotivated) and this one is 3x longer than usual.<br/>I seriously feel like I wrote this whole chapters two sentences at a time, so if you see something wrong, please let me know and I will fix it!<br/>Next chapter will probably include some news from my area of the world even though it doesn't really fit into England much at all. Anything to keep the ball rolling.<br/>Also, I've been wondering: Would it help if I posted the age of Charlie/progression of Elsie's pregnancy? I've been keeping track and contemplated putting them in as the chapter titles or in the summary/notes, but not sure if anyone cares enough about it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I did some major editing on the last chapter. All you really need to know is they still aren't being open about their sexual intentions with each other and no sex happens. Needless to say, Elsie never got her "O".</p><p>Charlie 8 months, Elsie 4 months</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up next to a warm husband was certainly preferable to a hot water bottle that had gone cold in the night. It also made getting out of bed that much harder. Speaking of hard, Elsie is displeased to learn her husband is “awake” and poking her in the back now that their honeymoon is over.</p><p>They wake up an hour earlier now to wash up and ready themselves for another day of work before taking a paced walk to the abbey. Charles is sneaking peeks at her along the way making Elsie fully aware of the subtle bounce of her bosom as they walk the dusty road.</p><p>“It’s strange, I never thought we would be able to smell the chimneys this far away from the house.” He says to finally break the tension.</p><p>Elsie sniffs the air; it does smell a bit like a campfire outside. “That is strange. Perhaps I should inquire about a chimney sweep today as well.”</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Here you are Mrs. Carson.” Daisy said plopping a plate of full English down in front of her.</p><p>“What's this? Where's my usual porridge and egg?”</p><p>“Mrs. Patmore said you’d be needing more food now that you were married ‘n all.”</p><p>“You should know better Daisy,” O’Brien sneers from her end of the table “Mrs. Carson has probably had her fill of sausage in the morning by now.”</p><p>Charles turned beet red at the innuendo as his plate was placed before him. Before he could scold O’Brien for impertinence, Thomas piped up with his own crudeness.</p><p>“Don't worry Daisy, I'm sure Mrs. Carson won’t say no to a second helping of sausage. It is still early in their marriage after all.”</p><p>Daisy, too innocent to pick up the insinuation stared back and forth from the sniggering lady’s maid and footman to the seething butler and mortified housekeeper. “I can take it back to the kitchen if you like Mrs. Carson.”</p><p>“That would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Black pudding seems to be such a rarity these days.” O'Brien chimed in again “Didn't think it would be difficult to find a bit of blood for one sausage.”</p><p>Giggles went up and down the table only to be silenced the butler.</p><p>“That is quite enough from everyone!” Mr. Carson slammed his fists on the table, fixing them all with a steely stare. “Thomas, William, the silver has tarnished since Friday. You will both spend today polishing every bit of silver in my pantry till it shines fiercely enough that the butler at Duneagle has to avert his eyes. Anna, Gwen, the wardrobes will need changing soon. Clean the storage room from top to bottom so the family's clothing doesn't dirty, I'm sure Miss O'Brien here would be willing to provide her help once she has finished dressing her ladyship. After that, you may all convene down here so we can start preparing Downton for the winter months. I will be in my pantry when you are ready to do so.”</p><p>Everyone went dead silent as Charles stormed down the hall and slammed the pantry door behind him. </p><p>“I think Mr. Carson is angry.” Daisy stated the obvious.</p><p>Elsie grabbed their teacups from the table. “I'll go sort him out. Absolutely no one is to enter Mr. Carson's pantry until I give the go ahead, is that clear?” She said giving each staff member a stern look and receiving a solemn nod back.</p><p>Charles was fuming in his pantry, pacing and ranting about the bawdy remarks the staff were making.</p><p>“Can you believe them Elsie?! We are gone three days and suddenly we lose all respect and credibility in this household.”</p><p>“They didn't mean anything by it Charles, it's just a bit of fun.”</p><p>“It's impertinence if you ask me.” He ranted on not looking at her.</p><p>“Charles-”</p><p>“The crudeness that spewed from their mouths”</p><p>“Charles Carson if you don't calm down-” </p><p>“As if our bed is suitable material for discussion, let alone table talk.”</p><p>“Sit and have your tea.” Placing the cups on his desk, but her attempts at a distraction go unnoticed.</p><p>“And they weren’t even amusing, never mind humorous… And O’Brien’s quip about the blood sausage didn’t even make sense.”</p><p><em>For heaven's sake</em> she thought as she fiddled with the front of her dress.</p><p>“Furthermore, if Mrs. Patmore thinks she can...” Charles stopped abruptly and stared at the open front of her dress.</p><p>“It seems these things are proficient at quieting grown men as well as bairns.” She said doing up the tiny buttons a second time this morning “I'll try not to assume a connection between the two.” The weapons of women come in handy sometimes. </p><p>“Wait a moment.” He called after her as he fished around one of his desk drawers and produced a paper packet. Ripping off the corner and emptying the powder into one of the cups, he surprises her by stirring it using one of the family’s silver teaspoons. “Don’t forget, Doctor Clarkson wants you to take this with your tea now.”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Her morning is spent at her desk behind a large stack of record books. Part of last night's agreement was she would tackle all the bookkeeping while Charles inspected the rooms during his afternoon rounds. It was an economical use of their time that kept Charles happy and Elsie off her feet and busy.</p><p>“A few more bills for you.” He plopped three envelopes on her desk and sat across from her with a grunt.</p><p><em>Electric bill, telephone bill and one from the grocer. </em>“Too much work, or not enough? It's unlike you to come and sit with me this close to lunch.”</p><p>“Mmmh.” He scrubs his hands over his face “Too much. His lordship wants to plan another cricket match to mark the close of the season.”</p><p>“What?!” She looks up from the check she is writing to the grocer “But that's only two weeks away? We couldn't possibly put something together so quickly. The village needs time to draft another team of boys, we need to get some flyers designed, printed and distributed as quickly as possible and, oh heavens, Mrs. Patmore and I need to plan out the menu with her ladyship -”</p><p>“I know,” He interrupts knowing she can go on forever “but we are in the business of making miracles happen, aren't we, darling? Use my telephone to alert the printer, the house always gets priority. I can give you Thomas for an afternoon, he has something of a hand for artwork and it would save on time and money for a proper artist.”</p><p> </p><p>After serving luncheon, she gets Thomas settled in her sitting room with a rough outline of the flyer and the details for signing up. He is more than happy to be doodling cricket players and writing in his fine script while William is upstairs moving heavy things about at Mr. Carson's direction.</p><p>Both their books are balanced now, and the checks are written out and in the box to be sent out with the post. Until she can send one of the hall boys to the printer with the finished flyer, there really isn't much for her to do till after dinner when she will count the silver and update the wine records.</p><p>Sneaking up to the attics, she finds the old, frayed corset she left behind and puts it on loosely. A quick spin around the house to double check the rooms won't hurt her any and she wants to look presentable should she cross paths with a member of the family.</p><p>The bedrooms were spotless, as usual, with baseboards dusted, trinkets straightened, beds made up with crisply ironed fresh sheets and the like. From there she moved into the drawing room and decided that the rug needs an early beating. The library is where she usually found something the maids had missed or cut corners on. The drapes were drawn back letting in what little light escaped the cloudy day, but the windows were closed, and the air was stale. Figuring she would open the windows for an hour or so before the rain came, she was hit with the same smokey, campfire smell Charles assumed was coming from the house this morning. Something worrisome was afoot. The whole village would have to be on fire to make enough smoke to reach the abbey, but surely word would have gotten here by now if something that big were happening. </p><p>With the rest of the room seemingly in place there was only one area left to check, the top of the bookcases. Dragging the elephant ladder over to one end of the room, Elsie climbed up and swiped her finger across the top finding a fine layer of dust coating sitting atop the crown molding. A glance at her watch told her it was late enough in the day that Lord Grantham would be in soon and she doubted she would have time to fetch her maids to clean the offending dust in time.</p><p>Whipping out her handkerchief and running it across the top, she watched the dust fly into the air before moving the ladder to the next dirty spot.</p><p>“Elsie!” Her name cuts sharply through the silence spooking her enough to make the ladder rock dangerously beneath her and nearly slip off the rung. Charles hustled over and grabs her firmly by the hips. “Get down from the ladder this instant.”</p><p>“I’m not a child, Charles. I was perfectly fine before you walked in.” She can feel his strong fingers holding her though the corset as she steps down. “You can't coddle me till the baby comes, I do have a job to do you know.”</p><p>He dropped his voice to a whisper as he leads her downstairs by the elbow. “I never said you were, but it's my job to protect you and the baby, even if it is from its own mother.”</p><p>“Because I’m not some impudent young hussy who walks around with her bits bobbing about. And don’t say that they aren’t, I saw you staring this morning.”</p><p>Charles and Elsie walk silently past the kitchen and through the empty servant’s hall to her sitting room. It wasn't till they were behind closed door that he opened up about the other issue consuming his mind.</p><p>“About this morning, as much as I enjoyed it, I’d appreciate us refraining from those kinds of things while we are at work.”</p><p>“Oh,” she blushes, remembering her daring way of distracting him this morning “rest assured that was only a onetime thing to get you to calm down. I’d never think you bold enough to even consider doing those kinds of things here.”</p><p>Charles, who had been shuffling through the papers Elsie left on his desk, whipped his head up sharply with an astounded look “Are you calling me boring?”</p><p>“Of course not, Charles. It’s just…” she paused, chewing things over to find the right words “Well, let’s just say I’m still surprised we are in the situation we’re in. Up until four months ago, you never allowed us anything more intimate than holding my hand as I stepped down from the train carriage; and now we’re married, I’m in the family way and still learning the rules of… intimacy.”</p><p> Charles sat there, bristled, but accepted her excuse nonetheless. “I don’t really believe there are any <em>rules</em> to intimacy, per se. Decency, yes, but not rules.”</p><p>Elsie broke eye contact, preferring to look at her feet instead as the mood of the room became increasingly awkward. They loved each other; she knew that. They both enjoyed the physical act of sex; she could see it on his face after the fact even though his faced was mostly screwed up in intense concentration while it was occurring as if he were doing some sort of chore. There just didn’t seem to be a way to explain to him that she wanted his passion.</p><p>A bell rang in the hall before either could come up with something to say. “That will most likely be Doctor Clarkson. We should continue this discussion later tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Charles was fuming as he walked the corridors. She really thinks he’s boring in bed, rigid where he doesn’t need to be. It’s not as if she’s had years of experience to compare him to, just Joe who couldn’t keep his grimy hands to himself. Charles shakes his head, he doesn’t want to think about Elsie with another man, but now she’s carrying his child and he’s letting her down days into their marriage. Weren’t men supposed to be automatically good at caring for their wives in every fashion?</p><p>While Dr. Clarkson saw to Lady Grantham, Charles checked on his favorite room in the house, the Ball Room. He sees less of it now than he did 40 years ago when Balls were more frequent. Even as a junior hall boy, he would escape chamber pot duties to view the pageantry happening down the corridor. Inside, politics were debated, friendships were made or rekindled, and, if one was lucky, love would strike and fathers would be fetched to settle the match.</p><p>Closing the door, he turned to face one of the house’s many grandfather clocks – or as he liked to think of it, Lord Grantham’s clock. The previous Lord Grantham, that is.</p><p>As a boy, he noticed the clock’s key went missing occasionally and would magically be replaced. Sometimes it was gone for a few hours, more often it went missing overnight. Patrick Grantham was masterfully cunning, escorting a lady or two out of the Ball Room and slipping the clock key into his pocket with no one the wiser. They would head down the corridor, turn a corner and disappear for the night.</p><p>One quiet morning, when young Charles couldn’t stand the suspense anymore, he stole the key and ran down the corridor. He didn’t quite know what he expected when he turned the corner, but he wanted something more magical to appear instead of the alcove where women would sit and view the rose garden. Stubbornness, and not wanting to empty the chamber pots, kept him in that corner. There was no keyhole beneath the bump out, nor behind the vases on either side. It wasn’t until he noticed two barely visible breaks in the chair rail paneling that he allowed himself to be giddy. Sure enough, the small piece of paneling swung away to reveal a keyhole. The key fit and with a small turn, the whole panel came away revealing a small bedroom.</p><p>The bedroom itself was quite sparse, especially one designated for the use of an earl. It was nice though with its large four poster bed and matching chestnut dresser filled with odd devices. Several of these contraptions resembled the member in his trousers and one he recognized as the metal belt the housekeeper tried to impose upon him to keep him healthy and pure*. There was also an odd-looking chaise in the room that didn’t look to be comfortable for fainting women to lay upon.</p><p>Charles tried to suppress the crimson coloring in his cheeks as he strode back to Lady Grantham’s bedroom, wondering what Dr. Clarkson had to say about the Countess’ wan appearance and delicate stomach.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Victorian men had their own kind of chastity belt known as the anti-nocturnal emissions device. It is very much the same idea as the women’s, encasing everything in metal with holes for urine and air circulation. Spermatorrhea (wet dreams) was thought to be as serious a disease as hysteria and masturbation was thought to be unhealthy. It only doubled up as solving a religious issue as a cruel coincidence.</p><p> </p><p>Again I'd like to apologize for the long update between chapters (nearly 3 months!) and it is not as long as I'd like, but I wanted to get something out before 2021. It has gotten so bad that I feel I need to start reading what I wrote so I don't contradict myself or reuse specific phrases. Thanks for sticking with this. You have no idea how rewarding it is to know someone genuinely enjoys something I've written.</p><p>Hope you all had a merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, joyous Kwanzaa, happy solstice or whatever you celebrate and wish you all a healthy and hopeful new year.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Charlie 8 months, Elsie 4 months</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Lady Grantham with child again. I can hardly believe it.” Elsie puffed through her handkerchief as she and Charles walked back to their cottage that night.</p><p>“It shouldn’t be too difficult to believe, she’s six years younger than you.”</p><p>Elsie swatted Charles’s shoulder with her handkerchiefed hand. “You of all people should know better than to make reference to any woman’s age.”</p><p>“I was only pointing out something we both knew.”</p><p>“Still, it will be nice for baby to have a friend growing up.”</p><p>“Preposterous.” He scoffed “The next Grantham child will be upstairs with nanny, or at the very least his siblings.”</p><p>“There will be a good 18 years between the baby and Miss Sybil by the time he gets here. Anyway, you know as well as I that having sisters didn’t stop Lord Grantham or the young ladies from exploring the downstairs.”</p><p>Charles had no reply for her except to change the topic as he opened the door to their cottage. “Good lord these wildfires are out of control.” He said folding and tucking his own handkerchief away in his pocket. “Never thought a fire in Norwich could reach Yorkshire. What we need is a good English rain to clear the air.”</p><p>“Indeed. I’ll be much happier when this has all cleared up tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>It was still dark outside when their alarm went off the next morning, abnormally dark for September – and cold too.</p><p>“What time is it?” she asked groggily when she felt her husband roll over to silence the infernal machine.</p><p>“Usual, 5:30.” Charles, oblivious or unbothered by the peculiar morning, returned to his pillow for a few minutes more of rest.</p><p>Elsie’s mornings typically started the way most peoples did, with a much-needed trip to the loo. This morning, however, curiosity had her ignoring her bladder to look out the window. The usual signs of daybreak were not peeking over the horizon and… “Charles, I think it’s snowing outside.”</p><p>Snow. On a September morning. It was a phenomenon uncanny enough to bring the man to his feet to view with his own eyes. Sure enough, white specks floated through the air and down to earth leaving both husband and wife in a state of unease.</p><p> </p><p>The smell of smoke was easily twice as strong compared to last night and the snow that dotted the path to the abbey had had a distinct greyish hue. It was ash that snowed down upon them, coating their hats and coats and working its way past handkerchiefs and into their burning lungs.</p><p>“The two of you alright?” Mrs. Patmore asked as Charles and Elsie brushed the ash off themselves. “I can hear you both coughing up a lung from the kitchens.”</p><p>“Just a bit of smoke, nothing more.” Charles waved her off unconvincingly “Why are the light’s off?”</p><p>“Blasted things been off all mornin’. I told you that electricity weren’t any good.”</p><p>“Right. Run an inventory on candles,” he said turning towards his wife “we will need to get in an early order if this is going to continue.”</p><p> </p><p>Luck would have it that Downton was well supplied with larger candles for ambient lighting in addition to firewood. Tapers, which they usually used for dinner, would need to be ordered for delivery – neither Charles nor Elsie were willing to send one of their own to fetch them.</p><p>So, Charles spent the morning digging out old chambersticks and cleaning them before breakfast with the help of Thomas and William. Elsie had the maids seal up draft gaps around doors and windows to keep ash from floating in.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll never believe what’s happening.” Elsie tried to prompt a question from her husband when he descended the servant’s stairwell. Charles gave no reply but motioned for her to continue and follow him into his pantry. He sat down behind his desk, pulled out a blank sheet of paper and a pen and started scribbling away. “Our delivery is on hold.”</p><p>Charles’ head shot up giving Elsie his full attention. “What do you mean ‘on hold? Downton does not get put on hold, everyone else does.”</p><p> “I rang up the chandlery. Not only is Mr. Thompson fresh out of candles, but he isn’t making any deliveries until the smoke clears.” His brows furrowed “Well, that’s odd, I thought. So, on a hunch I called up the grocer, same deal. No food and no deliveries until the smoke clears. And then the butcher said much the same. Apparently Dr. Clarkson busied himself this morning warning everyone to remain inside and advises everyone to not be outside longer than 10 minutes.</p><p>“That certainly changes things.” Charles said after a few moments. His tone was surprisingly calm, and he didn’t bluster on about Dr. Clarkson’s interference like she predicted. “I suppose I should relay this news to Lord Grantham at once.”</p><p> </p><p>Downton was now in survival mode, well as close to survival mode as it could possibly get. Charles and Lord Grantham agreed it was best to cease all operations that took place past the threshold of the abbey. Even though Elsie often felt she was tied to a desk, and the staff rarely got to feel the warmth of the sun on their skin, much of the house’s inner workings came to a grinding halt. Bedclothes were to be changed once a week since the wash wouldn’t be sent out, and the kitchen flirted with serenity now that meals downstairs and up (Lord Grantham argued with Carson for quite some time on this particular detail) were being moderated. In short, Downton Abbey was literally on total lockdown for an indeterminable amount time with no one to leave unless circumstances were dire.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure this won’t be going on for too much longer. A good rain and we will be back in our little cottage.” Charles tried to comfort his wife while he collected their evening sherry glasses.</p><p>“I’ll still miss you.” Elsie confided lowly. Even behind closed door with most of the staff already retreating to the attics she took no chances at keeping their private life private.</p><p>“And I you. Now upstairs, the sooner we sleep the sooner we wake.”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>It was silly, really. Elsie spent most of her life sleeping alone. In this very bed, no less. So why was she having trouble falling asleep now? She assumed her yearning for her husband went hand in hand with the fire between her legs that raged as fiercely as the one outside, refusing to be extinguished after four days of abstinence. Elsie shifted onto her side and curled into a ball, her single bed feeling lonelier and colder than remembered it being just a few days earlier.</p><p>Frustrated, she looked at her clock for the third time in seven minutes and gave up any hope of falling asleep. Putting on her dress, Elsie confirms the women’s wing to be deserted and pads quietly over to the men’s wing, locking the door behind her and taking the key with her.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Charles sits up sharply when she enters his room.</p><p>“I couldn’t sleep.” She explains taking a seat at the foot of his bed.</p><p>“You nearly gave me a heart attack coming in my room this close to midnight. Which I might add –”</p><p>“Is improper and indecent, I know. I just missed having you near.”</p><p>They sat there in the dark for a moment, her rubbing his tired feet through the thin blankets before they were thrown back with a sigh. “Have your lungs stopped burning yet?” She asked to fill the silence.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Get in,” Charles groaned after another long pause “you’re clearly not going back to your room tonight.”</p><p>“I’m not going to kick you out of your bed.” She said watching as he stood and headed for the lone armchair in the corner.</p><p>“Elsie, just get in the bed while it’s still warm.” He dragged the chair closer to the bed “There’s not room enough for the both of us and I will not stand for you being uncomfortable in your condition.”</p><p>She paused in her unbuttoning, briefly considering contesting if any stage of pregnancy was comfortable, then decided against it. “What about you? Your long johns aren’t exactly the heaviest material.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about me, just leave me some room for my feet and I will be alright.” And that was how they slept till morning when Elsie would creep back to the women’s wing.</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The next day started out much as the first, with the castle abnormally cold and dark. They shuffled around schedules finding things for their charges to do. Maids gave lesser used rooms a going over, which was a blessing when Mr. Crawley showed up unannounced, and footmen carried out the rest of the winter preparations for the castle, setting aside the summer things to be cleaned and stored when permitted. Becky did nothing more than sulk and visit whoever wasn’t busy. Still, everyone was finished and relaxing in the servant’s hall by teatime when Charles and Elsie simply couldn’t find another reasonable task for them to carry out.</p><p>The family was much in the same way. Once they were up, dressed and fed, there wasn’t much for them to do around the house. Lady Mary in particular was irritated that she couldn’t take Diamond out for a ride and had resorted to lamenting about the many men with whom she could currently be spending time with, much to the annoyance of Lady Edith. Eventually they settled on having the gramophone brought into the small ballroom where Thomas tended to the records and Lord Grantham and Mr. Crawley took turns dancing with the ladies. Carson seemingly had other things to tend to and disappeared during this time.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Elsie waited in her bedroom that evening till she heard the sounds of O’Brien retiring for the night. The nettlesome lady’s maid was always the last one up, most likely in an attempt to eavesdrop on her and Mr. Carson for some gossip she could use hang over other members of the staff. She waited another thirty minutes as instructed to ensure O’Brien and Thomas, whom she had drawn into her late-night plottings, was settled for the night. Only then did she leave the attics and head down to the butler’s pantry to meet her husband.</p><p>“Why again are we down here?” Surely there were better alternatives to their situation than sleeping in his pantry of all places.</p><p>“Just take my hand and follow me.” Charles said as he lit a chamberstick and led her up the servant’s stairwell.</p><p>He surprised her by exiting at the second floor and leading her down the dark corridor. <em>What on earth are we doing at the great ballroom?</em> She thought as she watched him quickly fiddle with one of the clocks before continuing their journey.</p><p>“Will you please just tell me what we are doing?” She whispered when they ended up in the small sitting alcove.</p><p>“Just one more moment and you shall see.”</p><p>He ran his hand along the wall and broke away a small piece of chair rail. A second later the wall swung out and he gestured her in. “Mind the threshold.”</p><p>Taking the chamberstick, she gasped at the room inside. It was by no means the most ornate room in Downton, but the largest bed she had ever seen stood before them.</p><p>“Charles this is beautiful.” Elsie marveled as she walked around trying to get a better look at what else was in the room. “How ever did you know about this place?”</p><p>“A good butler knows all the secrets of the house he serves.” He took the chamberstick and lit the gas lamps.</p><p>“Look at this! This bed is large enough to sleep four people. And you’re not worried about someone finding us in here?”</p><p>Charles chuckled. “Lord Grantham likely never put this room to use. I doubt he even knows it is here. I do believe we are the only people aware of this room’s existence. Us and perhaps the Dowager.”</p><p><em>Why would the Dowager be aware of this room and not Lord Grantham…</em> OH. Ohhhhh. She suddenly felt the need to scrub the room floor to ceiling. “No, I don’t believe Lord Grantham would need this type of room.”</p><p>“Right, well I’m knackered; I’m going to turn in.”</p><p>There isn’t a wardrobe or an armoire for their clothing, only a dresser, a clothes horse and rack at which Charles is already standing. He turns to look at her as she unbuttons her dress. “I’ve changed the linens this afternoon, so those are clean. And I also snuck in my old ala…”</p><p>“Is anything wrong, Charles?” Elsie asked as she stepped out of her black dress. Instead of replying, his eyes are firmly locked on her with his mouth agape as she hangs her dress on the rack.</p><p>“Ha-have you been… like that. All day?”</p><p>Elsie blushes fiercely as she realizes what has sidelined his train of thought. A corset is the cornerstone of a woman’s undergarments. Without it, there is nothing to keep the shift from riding up or attach underskirts to. Ties on drawers were uncomfortable and came loose so she forwent them, so the only thing she had worn under her dress were her black stockings which she kept up with thigh garters. “I suppose I have.”</p><p>“Oh, Elsie.” Charles groans as he pulls her close to kiss her, his hands only leaving her to hastily rid himself of his clothing as their kisses grow more fervent. <em>So much for refraining from inappropriate things at the house.</em></p><p>When they finally pull apart, Charles hurriedly pulls off his shoes and shakes off the last of his livery. “Leave those on.” He adjures her when she moves to unbuckle a garter.</p><p><em>So <strong>that’s</strong> how he wants me.</em> She makes a big show of swaying her hips as she walks to the bed, sits and crosses her legs. “Well?” She teases as saucily as she can.</p><p>“Coming, coming.” He says as he tosses his underwear aside letting his erection bob freely. <em>Not</em> <em>too soon, I hope.</em></p><p>Laying her back, Charles runs his fingers along the black linen inadvertently finding the ticklish spot right behind her knee. She giggles watching her husband who, without blinking an eye, has spent a lifetime surrounded by high-born women dolled up in fashionable French clothing and perfumes designed to entice men, is now completely enamored by a simple pair of cheap linen stockings on his plain wife.</p><p>When he has had his fill, he quickly sets up the position with her knees bent and after a final caress of her stockings, he slides in.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He snaps out of his trance when Elsie yelps in pain.</p><p><em>You stupid cow, you got so caught up in your need you forgot you don’t have the jelly.</em> “Aye. It must have been the strange day that’s thrown me off. I don’t think much will happen tonight.” She hates herself for saying it, but she very well can't tell him the truth about what’s going on down there.</p><p>Charles looks down at her, completely at a loss as Elsie attempts to shift to her side of the bed. “Stay put one moment.” And starts frantically scouring through dresser drawers. “Aha!” He exclaims when he comes up with a small white container and hands it to her. “This ought to smooth things along. And it smells nice too!”</p><p>The strong smell of flowers and herbs and more immediately fills her senses. “Bear grease? My, my. It really has been decades since anyone has been in this room.”</p><p>Charles pours a small dollop of the ocher colored substance into his palm and rubs it along his shaft. The sight of Charles stroking his cock fans her desire more than ever and Elsie wishes she had a personal camera so she would always have a naughty reminder of tonight.</p><p>They get back in position and find that everything fits smoothly. Perhaps tomorrow she will raid the storeroom for some butter or lard.</p><p>Minutes fly by and Charles is completely lost in her, but the baby’s weight has become another source of discomfort she cannot ignore.</p><p>“Charles, I think we need to stop.”</p><p>“Now?” He slows but doesn’t stop moving.</p><p>“I’m uncomfortable. I don’t think I can lay on my back much longer.”</p><p>“How about another position?”</p><p>There is a pleading look in his eye that coupled with her own desire is hard to deny. “Fine.” There is only one more viable position she can think of and she saw it plenty of times on the farm.</p><p>She rolls over onto her hands and knees ready to be taken from behind. Charles mutters something in that tone she knows which means he is very unhappy.</p><p>“Elsie, would you mind getting on your side again?”</p><p>Not knowing what he has in store, she agrees and lets him straddle one leg while placing the other over his shoulder. “Comfortable?”</p><p>Elsie nods her approval of this new position and is filled again by his thick heat. He definitely feels bigger this way and is hitting all new areas inside her from this angle. Charles again is captivated by her stockings, running his fingers from smooth black linen to silky white skin. Since he isn’t paying much attention to her, Elsie lets her fingers slip down to her nub and starts rubbing gentle circles around it. As the pressure of her climax builds, so do her moans which gather the attentions of her husband and fills her with his warm release. Elsie rubs her little nub more furiously, but slowly loses interest as Charles softens withing her. It’s another frustrating night for the two of them.</p><p>Charles gets up and puts out the lights while Elsie rids herself of her stockings. He is mentally beating himself up so intensely she can practically hear his exasperated thoughts across the room.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I’ll do better tomorrow.” He promises when he tucks her in.</p><p>“I know you will.”</p><p>With two hands on her belly, one large and one small, they cuddle up behind drawn curtains.</p><p>“You should count yourself incredibly fortunate that the practice is enjoyable.”</p><p>Charles chuckles halfway through his yawn. “That I do. Practicing with you is very enjoyable.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whew. I was up till 4am trying to get this out for you today Maria1980, I hope you enjoy it.</p><p>So, for anyone who cares, bear grease was a pomade-like haircare product that also "cured" baldness back in the 1800's. It smelled absolutely horrible so things like rose water, nut oils, chamomile, rosemary, butter and other animal fats were used to make it less rancid. It was also dyed a yellowish brown for whatever reason.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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